


the walls kept tumbling down

by Ingu



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Conversations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Major Character Injury, Minor Allison Hargreeves/Luther Hargreeves, Minor Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts, Missing Scene, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Season 3 Speculation, The Umbrella Academy (TV) Season 2 Spoilers, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 67,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingu/pseuds/Ingu
Summary: It started small.There was a nagging ache in his chest, phantom pain from where the bullets had pierced his flesh, in the overwritten timeline that never will be.(the one where rewinding time doesn't miraculously resolve mortal gunshot wounds)
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Allison Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Luther Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone
Comments: 366
Kudos: 2149





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> That time rewinding scene in the last episode sent all my hurt/comfort instincts into overdrive and I can't begin to tell you how cheated I felt by the fact that the time travel miraculously healed all of Five's injuries. Then Five just... never mentioned what happened??? He saw everyone die and rewound time to save literally everybody's lives???? We gotta talk about that, guys.
> 
> Is this fic just one big excuse to force the family to think and talk about Five? Why yes, yes it is.
> 
> This fic is eight chapters with author's notes at the end. Completely unbetaed and all mistakes are mine. Title borrowed from [Pompeii by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m326LNIRB3k).

It started small.

There was a nagging ache in his chest, phantom pain from where the bullets had pierced his flesh, in the overwritten timeline that will never be. Five ignored it, focused intently on watching as Vanya talked softly at Harlan, readying himself to dive in and pull her out if the boy showed any sign of attacking her. An energy force-field couldn’t do that much when you could cut across time and space, after all.

But then, the lights faded, Sissy dove forward to hug her boy, laughing, and Vanya was smiling at the five of them, eyes shining. She was okay, Five realized. The strength of his relief took him by surprise, and he couldn’t help smiling back at her.

Allison dove forward and pulled Vanya into a hug, and then they were laughing too. She couldn’t believe she just did that, Allison said. Vanya was amazing, she said. For the most part, Five was inclined to agree.

Next to Luther, Klaus started saying something about Lila. Diego bit back with a sharp comment, and then, Luther was trying to keep the two apart, though he was mostly focused on making soft eyes at Allison again, whatever that was about. 

But now Five had… time to find out?

Five simply stood there, reeling from it all. They’d stopped the apocalypse, they’d saved Harlan, the Commission was out of (hah) commission with all of its field agents either dead or badly injured. They finally had space to breathe, yet at the same time, strangely, it was becoming a little bit hard to breathe.

Exhaustion washed over him, so strong he swayed a little on his feet as he turned and started moving away, to give the others, to give himself, some more space. The headache he’d had since waking up buried beneath the debris (since that damned _frypan_ ) was sharpening back into focus, and he briefly closed his eyes against it, wondering if it couldn’t go away if he just _willed_ hard enough. 

Reaching the other side of the barn, Five sat down on a bale of hay. He didn’t like the way his knees simply buckled, how he practically fell onto his seat. But the fact of it didn't surprise him. Once he steadied himself, Five took a moment to take stock of his body, taking note of the soreness in his muscles, the rainbow spectrum of stinging, piercing, throbbing pain that littered different parts of his body. He was going to have some spectacular bruises, and a few of his ribs might be fractured, but for the most part, behind the pain and exhaustion and faint sense of lingering terror, he felt okay. 

It was always in moments like this that he missed the muscle and resistance his older body offered. Having an extra few decades to live had never been the problem with being thirteen again. The problem was how much harder it was to gain the upper hand in combat, and to be taken seriously by the people around him. Some part of Five wanted to think that managing his siblings wouldn’t feel this much like herding cats if he looked his actual age. Though knowing their relationship with Dad, that was probably only wishful thinking.

For a moment, he just focused on breathing, and watched his siblings with tired eyes. Diego and Klaus might be bickering, but they were grinning widely at the same time. There was a wildness in Diego’s eyes still, and something forced in his smile, Five thought he knew the reason why. 

Lila was going to be a problem in time, if not for the family then definitely for Diego. There was no telling what a rogue agent with skills and powers like hers could get up to with a briefcase. Or what her existence meant for the others like them, out there in the world. Had the Handler found and trained other children? Had the CIA? KGB? Were there other versions of the Umbrella Academy out there? In hiding? Just how many more of them were there?

And Vanya, how had she given power to that child? How was it that she could take it away again? Was that something that all of them could do? Or was it something only unique to her?

There was too much to think about, hundreds of things to investigate. But they could deal with that in time. 

They had time now.

Five had always had an odd relationship with time, had spent decades of his life made powerless by the very thing he had tried to master. But time, the concept of it, the fludity, malleability, uncertainty of it all, felt different to him now even more than before. 

It had always been his practice to tear open portals and step through them, whether it was time, or space, or both, his technique had remained the same for over fifty years. Yet what he had done a few minutes ago was strange, different. He’d never crossed space and time physically in that way before, an active, conscious, rewinding of time, with a precision of control he’d never exerted before when it came to time travel. He’d felt the bullets leave his body, chased after them toward a departing Handler. He’d never known he was capable of something like that, though the fact of it seemed obvious in retrospect. He’d spent forty-five years so terrified of another failure that he’d never dared to experiment, he’d been so stupid. Just how much more could he do with his powers? How much more had he not unlocked?

“Five, are you alright?”

Five’s eyes snapped open, and he didn’t remember closing them. Luther was standing over him, giving him that puppy-eyed look full of worry.

“I just went several rounds with a highly trained assassin in a thirteen year old body, not to mention saved _everyone’s lives,_ again.” He should probably tell the others about the details of that at some point. Five sighed. “Just give me a minute.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” Luther said. The implications of Five’s words had clearly gone straight over his head, but the worry in his eyes was still clear as day. “Do you want… Should I get you a glass of water or something?”

For a moment, Five blinked dumbly at Luther. It was a very simple offer. But this was something different from the usual, different from the servile idolatry of commission workers, the predatorial mothering of the Handler, or the cautious tolerance of service staff. Genuine, sincere worry, without any sarcasm or condescension. It shouldn’t surprise Five like this, coming from Luther, and yet it still did.

Warmth flared inside of him, even as his body ached with pain and overexertion. Five closed his eyes and sighed, exasperated, yet helplessly fond at the same time.

“I’ll be fine,” Five said softly.

Luther’s expression fell, and he seemed disappointed yet no less concerned. For a wild moment, panic sparked inside of Five, and he wanted nothing more than to make that expression go away.

“Thanks,” Five added, his lips twitching with a smile in what he hoped was reassurance.

It did the trick. Luther smiled back at him, and Five hid a wince, as a sharp pain stabbed through his chest.

  
  


-

  
  


Five got himself that glass of water, picking through the wreckage of what had to have once been a homey farmhouse. The taps were still working, thankfully, though the tremor in his hands made things needlessly difficult as he tried to fill a glass.

It wasn’t coffee, but Five was too thirsty to care. His throat was parched, and Five gulped down the water with a lot more desperation than he meant to. As he slammed down the glass and gasped for air, the last drops of water went down the wrong way, sending him into a violent coughing fit that had him doubling over the sink.

He coughed, and coughed, deep, rattling coughs that didn’t make sense for the small amount of water he’d choked on. With a wild surge of panic Five found he couldn’t seem to stop coughing. He stumbled back from the counter, lungs burning, and flailed to grab onto the edge of the kitchen island, barely able to keep balance. Five squeezed his eyes shut, and desperately willed himself to stop, to get his body back under control, even as he shook with tremors.

Eventually, his body started to calm, and Five opened his eyes, pushing down an instinctive panic and confusion as he tried to catch his breath again. Everything hurt, and he couldn’t even tell where all of it was coming from. The sharpest pains were in his head, and his chest, and there was a stinging pain tugging at his side, the old shrapnel wound had probably reopened, again. 

Five felt like he could lie down and sleep for a week. At this point he surely deserved it.

“Five?” Diego’s voice rang through the farmhouse. 

Five glanced toward the front door, and toward the sound of Diego’s boots thumping as he came up the stairs. Taking a steadying breath, Five shoved the pain to the back of his mind, and stepped toward his brother.

Diego was already at the doorway by the time Five made it around the counter, careful not to trip on any of the debris strewn about the place. At this point if he tripped he wasn’t sure he was going to get back up again.

“What is it?” Five rasped as Diego came through the doorway. He grimaced at the sound of his voice and tried to clear his throat. In that moment, another spasm hit his chest, and he bent forward again, coughing.

“I just got a mess-” Diego paused, eyes widening as he took in Five’s shaking frame. He stepped closer, one hand rising to hover over Five. “Hey, you okay?”

Five waved Diego away, half-heartedly slapping at his brother’s outstretched hand as he stepped back.

“Just-” Five coughed again, grimacing at the fresh copper taste in his mouth. The water hadn’t quite washed away the taste of blood, and he was pretty sure he had cut the inside of his mouth at some point in the fight. “Water went down the wrong way.”

Diego barked out a laugh, and thumped Five once on the back instead. Five choked as the force of the sent pain stabbing through his chest, exactly where the bullets had once struck. He stumbled forward a few steps before he whirled around with a glare, disguising his disorientation as anger. 

“What do you want?” he snapped, his voice more breathy than he meant for it to be.

It wasn’t until the look of hurt flashed across Diego’s face that Five took note of his own tone. He hadn’t meant- God dammit.

“Alright, calm down,” Diego raised his hands with an annoyed frown and a mock look of surrender. There was a familiar scroll of paper in his hand. “I was just going to let you know that I got a message from Herb.” 

The Commission case manager? Five squinted, waiting for the follow up. “And? What did he say?”

Diego smirked. “Are you going to ask nicely?”

“Diego!” Incredulous, Five half lunged forward at his brother, hands half raised to choke him or punch him or… something. Shake him violently by the shoulders until he saw sense, probably. Five was exhausted and in agony and really, _really_ didn’t have the energy for this right now.

Diego had the audacity to laugh at him. “Jeez, Five, it’s okay, you know? We stopped the apocalypse, everyone’s safe, you can chill now.”

With a growl, Five zipped forward, and ripped the scroll from Diego’s hand as he stepped into the space behind him.

“Hey!” Diego cried out and turned around, but Five was already unfurling the scroll.

Five leant against the doorway as he read to stop himself from falling over. Using his powers again so soon was not a good idea. Noted.

“They’re coming here?” Five said, checking his watch. There was still about six minutes until the time provided on the piece of paper. The Handler was dead, and most of the Commission’s field agents wiped out. And with the board of directors gone - that left a power vacuum at the Commission. Was Herb the one stepping up to the plate? Five’s memories of the man mostly involved him shaking and terrified under the Handler’s abuse and derision. Who’d have thought-

“Yeah, since they don’t have a boss anymore and we just killed most of their field agents… I dunno, guess we should talk or something?”

“He likes you, right?” Five looked out toward the field, where the bodies of hundreds of men and women were still sprawled, and swallowed a sigh. He'd never wanted it to get to this.

“Of course,” Diego scowled at him, like he was offended by the fact that Five asked. “We’re part of the Résistance.”

Diego had no idea how much he sounded like a twelve year old when he said that word. Five folded the scroll and slipped it into his pocket. 

“Good. Then what are we waiting for?” he said. “If we can convince them to give us a briefcase, we can go home.”

“Well, yeah. Why do you think I came to get you?”

Five rolled his eyes, and started to make his way down the front porch steps. He loved Diego. Even if sometimes he had to remind himself of the fact. He really did love him. Just less in some moments than in others. 

  
  


-

  
  


Herb and Dot were kind enough to give them permission to use a briefcase, which was good for everyone involved. Because Diego’s budding friendship with the pair aside, Five wouldn’t have hesitated to knock them out and take their briefcase if it meant that he and his family could secure a way home. It was better to take the one briefcase guaranteed to be functional than to count on there being something salvageable among the wreckage around them.

(He would have brought the two Commision agents along with them back to 2019, of course.)

And though Herb and Dot were kind enough to give them permission, they weren’t quite nice enough to help them pinpoint a briefcase that was still functional before leaving. Before long, it was just him and Diego again, staring out across a field of dead and dying bodies, guns, masks, and briefcases scattered about in every direction.

“Well, let’s get started then,” Five said, rubbing absently at his chest as he coughed lightly. There were dozens of cases within just a few feet of them. “One of these has to still be functional. We need to find it before we lose the light.”

“What, right now?” Diego grumbled, making a face of disgust as he stared at a filthy rabbit mask being worn by a dead woman. It had two buck teeth and was missing half of one ear.

“The sooner we find a case, the sooner we can go home,” Five said. “Considering how much we’ve already screwed up the timeline, I’d rather not risk anything else going wrong. Would you?”

Five raised an eyebrow at Diego, who stared at him for a moment, before sagging with a drawn out sigh.

“Fine. Alright, where do we start?”

“The very back of the field, I imagine,” Five sighed as he trudged forward. “The briefcases are probably the least damaged there.”

Walking across the uneven, muddy field was harder than it should be. The adrenaline had well and truly worn off by now and Five was starting to regret not ransacking the medicine cabinet for some painkillers while he had the chance. Five's legs felt weak, and his lungs were still burning. Each time he couched to examine a briefcase, it was a little harder to push himself upright again. And he blinked back a wave of dizziness each time he straightened. He coughed as quietly as he could into his sleeve each time he couldn’t hold back the urge, and forced himself to ignore the increasingly concerned glances he was getting from his brother. 

Every time it looked like Diego was going to open his mouth to ask him if he was okay, Five cut him off with new instructions, or snapped at him to keep looking. Each time caring less and less if he was hurting Diego’s feelings.

Five wanted so desperately to go home it was the only thing that was still keeping him upright. The thought of finally leaving this fever dream of 1963 Dallas behind him, of being back in the halls of the Academy again, of his siblings around him, of maybe seeing Mum and Pogo alive again, of crawling beneath the covers of _his_ bed, unfamiliar but still unquestionably unchanged, unquestionably _his_ , it was the one thing that had kept him moving forward for the past forty-five years. And even now, the apocalypse averted, all of his surviving siblings alive and unharmed beside him, it was no different. If he could just be _home_ again, then maybe everything would finally be okay.

The sun had almost completely set by the time they found a properly functioning briefcase. Even where the force of the shockwave was the weakest, most of them had been totally fried, and a few were sputtering and clearly faulty. Five made Diego help him search until they had three promising candidates, and then he got Diego to lug two of them as he carried the third back to the farmhouse, trying not to trip and stumble in the growing darkness.

Vanya was sitting on the porch steps when they returned, and Five let Diego do the explaining as he swept into the house and set the briefcases side by side on the cleanest part of the floor. Klaus, sitting on the floor by the couch, peeked out at them curiously. Sissy and Harlan were nowhere to be seen, and Five could only assume they were resting in one of the bedrooms. Luther was clattering around the kitchen, making sandwiches with Allison. 

“You probably want to wait to do that, unless you want to throw it all up again,” Five said as he set himself down beside the briefcases, legs folded, and pulled the closest one toward his lap. He flicked the switches and dials, setting the briefcase to run a full self-diagnostic, before settling it back down and reaching for the second.

There was confused silence from the kitchen as both Luther and Allison seemed to pause what they were doing.

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad,” Klaus said, climbing to his feet and moving toward them. “It was mostly just… itchy.” As he said the last word, he did a full body shiver, as though remembering the feeling.

“When you’re travelling by yourself, perhaps,” Five said distractedly, pausing as he stared at the briefcase, willing his blurred vision to focus again. He blinked once, then twice, frowning.

“What do you mean?” Allison’s voice sounded as she emerged from the kitchen, Luther looking confused at her side. 

“What are you doing?” Luther added, looking at the briefcases.

“Running diagnostics,” Five said, running his fingers across the leather in the hope that it wouldn’t be too obvious that he was having trouble seeing. “These briefcases took a beating, it might look fine on the outside but I’d rather it not malfunction when we try to use it. Let’s just say dying in an explosion is one of the better outcomes in that scenario.”

Diego, despite Five’s warning to hold off on eating, was stuffing his face with one of the sandwiches. Five’s gaze skipped over his blurry shape, before he decided he didn’t actually care, and turned his attention back to the briefcase.

Diego, however, must have read the judgement in his eyes. “It was fine when I travelled with Herb,” Diego mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Five blinked at his siblings for a moment, mind blank, before remembering what he had been saying. “Yeah there’s… enough energy in the case to, uh, cover one or two people, but the ride gets bumpier the more people you add.”

He turned back to the briefcase, and found, to his relief, his eyes were willing to focus again. With a few presses and flicks, he started up the diagnostic program. 

“Shit,” Diego murmured, and stared at his sandwich like he was weighing up whether or not to eat it anyway. “Are you sure about that?”

Five understood the urge, he was starving, or, should be, anyway. Mostly he just hurt. 

“Briefcase Operation Manual, chapter three, section 12.5,” Five said, directing his most holier-than-thou smile at Diego. “You know, I think they actually also mention it in the introductory video. You might have known if you’d actually _passed orientation_.”

At that, Luther groaned, and Allison sighed. Then, there was the creak of floorboards as both of them started to wander off.

“I- You don’t-” Diego said, indignant, before he looked away, lips pursed in annoyance. “Shut up, Five.”

Five smiled, something soft and genuine this time, as a familiar feeling of affection and amusement rose in him. Diego dropped the sandwich back onto the plate and walked out the front door as Five set the final briefcase to start the diagnostics program, before placing it next to the others. Then, he leant back, and let out a breath. 

Now all he had to do was wait and hope that one of the cases returned an all-clear. The immediate task dealt with, the now familiar, bone-deep weariness rose inside of him again, and Five thought vaguely about curling up on the mostly-intact couch and taking a nap for a few minutes (a few days). There was a tickle in the back of this throat again, and he coughed once, wincing as the movement jolted his ribs, and sent another stab of pain through his chest where the bullets had struck him. Five pressed a hand to his chest, confused. He wasn’t bleeding. _So why...?_ He tried to pull together the equations that might explain the lingering, phantom pain, but it was hard to focus enough to do the maths in his head. He needed some paper.

When Five looked up again, he found Klaus crouched across from him, studying the blinking cases curiously as he munched on a ham and cheese sandwich. 

Five frowned, glancing between Klaus and his sandwich.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Klaus said with a wave. “I am _very_ good at suppressing my gag reflex.”

It took a moment for the meaning to click, and then, Five groaned. He hurled a piece of broken plaster at his brother. “Klaus!”

Klaus dodged, and then fell on his side with the momentum, laughing as he stretched out his long legs and took another bite of his sandwich. “Well, I don’t usually like to boast. But in this case, it’s actually one hundred percent true.”

Five glared at him for all of three seconds, before his shoulders started to shake, and then, he was laughing too. _And it hurt_. God, he hated Klaus so much.

  
  


-

  
  


Abandoning Klaus on the living room floor, Five made his way to the bathroom, unable to resist the siren’s call of painkillers. Slipping into the mostly intact room, he closed the door behind himself, and frowned at the shattered fragments of what used to be a mirrored cabinet on the wall. A dozen different Fives frowned back at him.

Brow furrowed, he gingerly reached to pull open the cabinet, careful not to cut his own fingers. He sorted through the half torn packets, and finally found what he was looking for. Five dumped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them with a scoop of water from the faucet. 

Another stab of pain shot through Five's chest, and his breath stuttered. He leant against the washbasin, fingers pressed tight against the porcelain as the pain slowly faded. The copper taste was back in his mouth, and Five was struggling to make sense of what was happening. The time jump had healed him, hadn’t it? So why was his body acting like this? Like it was trying to remind him that barely an hour ago, he had been bleeding out on the cold floor? As though it was confused why he wasn’t still there, dying?

The pain ripped through him again, sharp and jagged, and this time Five fell to his knees, choking as his vision blacked out for a second. Five slumped sideways, and sprawled sitting on the cold tile, his breaths short and shallow as the pain slowly faded again. With a growing panic, he pulled off his vest, loosened his tie, and fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, pulling it open. But when he looked down, he only saw a smooth expanse of skin. He was battered, and badly bruised from the fights with Lila, with the Swedes, and with his younger self. But there were no gaping bullet holes in his chest. The only visible wound was his old shrapnel injury, which had never quite healed, thanks to all of the fights he’d been forced into in the past week. The dressing was red again with fresh blood.

Suddenly, the door clicked open, and Five looked up at the sound of Allison gasping. She stood in the doorway, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my God, Five.” Allison breathed.

Five felt himself flush with humiliation, and he rushed to pull his shirt closed again, trying to hide the extent of his injuries. He knew he must look pathetic like this, a scrap of a teenage boy with little more than spindly limbs and mottled bruises. At times like these he hated this thirteen year old body more than he could stand.

Allison rushed forward, and her hands were on his before Five could do up all of his buttons again. Her touch was gentle, and Five froze, glancing up at her in uncertainty, and what he most definitely didn’t want to call fear. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Allison said, her voice soft but for the barest hint of disappointed anger. Her eyes on him were searching, worried, and Five wasn’t used to people looking at him like that, like it was hurting them to see him injured.

“I-” Five stared into her eyes, and knew he couldn’t say he was fine, because it was very clear to both of them that he wasn’t. He closed his mouth, then opened it again. “It’s just bruises. I was going to take care of it.”

Her gaze hardened, and Five knew he’d been caught out in his lie. “I saw the blood, Five. Look, at the very least, let me help you redress your wound.”

She wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and Five, feeling oddly thrown, reached up as she offered him her arm. Carefully, she pulled him to his feet, and set him to sit down on the edge of the bathtub. Then, Five was watching uselessly as she started digging through the cabinets for a first-aid kit.

It didn’t take Allison long to find it, a neatly stocked red bag tucked on one of the shelves. She turned back toward him and knelt down. Placing the bag on the floor, she started taking out a roll of gauze, antiseptic, and tape. Then, she gave him a look, and tilted her head toward his injury.

Five blinked, and then glanced down at himself. “Oh, right.”

He started undoing the few buttons he’d closed as Allison stood up again to wash her hands. Then, he was tugging the fabric of his shirt aside to reveal his old shrapnel wound. He stared at the floor, teeth gritted against his embarrassment as he waited for Allison. It was even colder like this. By now, the sun had completely set, and the bullet holes in the wall did little to keep out the chilly night air. 

The sound of running water stopped, and Five waited. For a long moment, there was silence in the bathroom.

When Allison showed no sign of doing anything, Five looked up toward her in confusion. 

His sister stood frozen, staring at the spot of red on his abdomen, the white of the dressing was stark against the dark bruises on his skin.

“Five," Allison's voice was quiet, "is that- Is that the injury you got in 2019?”

“Well, not… quite,” he replied, not entirely sure what was happening, or why Allison sounded so serious. “But close enough, I suppose. I was in 2019 when it knocked me out, you were there and everything.”

“I-” Something flickered in Allison’s expression, something lost, bewildered. She stepped forward, and knelt down in front of Five. “How… how long has it been for you? Since 2019?”

“Uh… a week?” Five said, starting to get a sense of why Allison was acting weird, and not liking it in the slightest.

Allison's shoulders slumped, and in that moment there was something stunned and heartbroken in her eyes that set something in Five loose. It hurt, seeing Allison hurt like this, seeing her sad and knowing he was the cause, even if the reason was something completely outside of his control.

“Allison-”

“I had no idea,” Allison breathed, “I just- I thought it took you months to find us. It took me years to find Klaus, and Luther… I- God, Five, have you-”

“Look, you don’t- This isn’t a big deal,” Five said, interrupting before Allison could do something completely unnecessary, like tell him he needed to stop, or God forbid, try to apologize. Five had no idea what to do with this, and in this moment, weary and hurting and just a little bit terrified, all Five could think of was to talk, to shut Allison up before she could say something well-meaning and completely idiotic. It wasn't _her_ fault that Five was like this, and there were things that she needed to understand.

"What do you mean it's not-"

“It was my fault everyone got stranded across time," Five said, "and the least I could do was make sure I fixed the mess I created by dumping us in the sixties. You don’t get to feel bad about living your life, for moving forward. Hell, if I’d had what you had in the apocalypse then who knows? Maybe it wouldn’t have taken me forty-five years to get back to you guys. I mean, I brought us back so we could have a second chance. All I ever wanted was for the rest of you to have a chance to grow old, like I did. I mean, what sort of sick joke is it that _I_ was the one who abandoned all of you and yet I was the only one who got to ma-”

The pain struck him again, stabbing deep in his chest, cutting him off mid-sentence. He choked on a breath and broke down with rattling coughs, shaking as his body rebelled against him.

Allison, who had been staring at him with shocked eyes, swept forward, her hands grasping his shoulders to hold him upright. Five choked and coughed, struggling to breathe.

Eventually, the fit subsided, and Five took a moment to catch his breath, his face buried in the crook of Allison’s neck. Allison’s arms were wrapped loosely around his shoulders, her warmth enveloping him in something like a hug.

“God, Five, I-” Allison pulled back after a moment, and held him by his shoulders, studying his face, mouth open like she didn’t know what to say. 

There was something there, in her eyes, too raw and open and awed, that Five didn’t know how to read. In that moment, Five could only stare confusedly at her, his mind blank with exhaustion. And then, he remembered what he had just said, what he’d just admitted to without thinking. He hadn’t meant to say all that. It wasn’t supposed to come out like that. Five’s gaze dropped, and his panic started rising again. God, it was so hard to think.

Allison blinked, lashes fluttering as she swallowed and shuttered her feelings. Then, she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead, and frowned. “Five, you’re burning up.”

It took a moment before Five remembered he should probably say something. 

“Great time to catch a cold, isn’t it?” Five tried for levity, desperate to wipe the the worried expression on Allison’s face.

“You’re going to bed the moment we get back, you got me?” Allison said, in a stern voice she'd probably used on Claire, once upon a time. "You sounded terrible just then."

Five hoped he’d get to meet Claire, that she’d still be there when they returned.

“We can talk about everything else… later.” Allison said with a determined nod. “Alright, let’s take a look at that wound of yours.” 

Allison didn’t wait for his answer before she went to pick up the gauze and motioned for him to show her the injury again.

Five went to pull at his shirt, then paused as a short, shrill beeping sounded from the main room. Allison turned at the sound, and Five took her moment of distraction to blink into the hallway outside. Losing his balance, he fell against the wall, and then pushed away from it. He ignored a muffled “Five!” from the other side of the bathroom door, and scrambled to do up his buttons and fix his tie as he walked back toward the main room.

He exited the hallway to find all of his other siblings gathered around the briefcases. Diego was leaning against a wall, arms folded as he played with one of his knives. While Luther stood stiffly by the kitchen counter with his hands in his pockets, staring wistfully at the uneaten sandwiches. Klaus was somehow still on the floor, and Vanya sat nearby on the armrest of the couch. Five hadn’t seen Sissy or Harlan since the barn, and he could only assume that Vanya had already said her goodbyes. 

Everyone was staring at the beeping briefcase with varying expressions of suspicion, curiosity, and alarm. Behind him, the bathroom door clicked open as Allison followed after him.

Five’s siblings gave him the barest of glances as he entered the room. There was a silent tension in the air as Five made his way to the briefcases, and went down to one knee beside them. He read the report on the first display, then frowned. The briefcase was bust, the diagnostic reporting errors with the targeting system and the stabilizers. Just as he finished reading the first report, the second briefcase also beeped to signal the completion of the diagnostics program.

Five shifted to the second briefcase, and a smile rose to his lips as he read the report.

_‘All systems operational.’_

He leaned back with a growing smile, a wave of relief washing over him. This was it. They could go home, right now. Five glanced at the third briefcase, and found the diagnostics progress stuck on 42% with no sign of moving. Considering the other two were already done with diagnostics, the third case was most likely also broken. But it didn’t matter, since they had what they needed. They could leave these briefcases behind, alongside everything else still out in the field, the Commission would come clean up the traces before long.

“Does it work?” Vanya said. 

Five looked up at her with a smile, and nodded. 

Around him, everyone started to mutter excitedly, and sighs of relief sounded.

“We can finally go home,” Five murmured, barely able to believe the words he was saying.

  
  


-

  
  


The familiar tug, and pull. There was an unfolding, and a snap as time and space rearranged itself around them. The atmosphere was different. It was no longer the crisp, fresh air of the Texas countryside in late fall, but something more musty and stale, the interior of a drafty old mansion. Five looked around, at the familiar foyer, the sweeping staircase, at all of his siblings, reeling and amazed. Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

The date on the newspaper said _April 2nd, 2019._ The day after the apocalypse.

They did it. 

Five hefted the briefcase onto the table. The air here was so stifling he had to pull himself away from the others just to breathe. Ignoring Allison’s worried looks, he half-stumbled into the parlor, his breaths coming short and sharp as he struggled to pull more air into his lungs. Everything was familiar, but not quite the same. Ben’s painting was above the mantelpiece instead of his, and he didn’t remember the bird statue being there in the old 2019. How much had changed?

There was something wet and coppery at the back of his throat, and he held his hand to his lips as he fought and failed to hold back another coughing fit. Behind him, his siblings had trailed him into the room, distracted by the changed decor, the promise of alcohol, and the thrill of being home again. They glanced at him briefly, but otherwise paid him little mind.

As the coughing calmed, Five pulled his hand away, and stared numbly at the splatters of blood on his palm. It was like the time travel had jolted something loose, and the pain in his chest was sharpening into renewed agony. It was the piercing pain of being stabbed, being _shot_ , all over again. But this time from the inside out as his body struggled to find the right equilibrium in this newly rearranged timeline.

“I knew you’d show up eventually.”

Dad. Alive. Five lowered his hand and turned toward the voice, though it was hard to make sense of what he was seeing and hearing. Of course. In this changed timeline Dad must not have killed himself. Something was wrong. But it was getting harder and harder to think, harder to breathe. His breathing was ragged and too loud in his ears, and he could feel himself swaying on his feet.

Something was wrong. Dad was saying something about this not being their home anymore, and then something about sparrows. Why the hell were they talking about birds?

“Five?” Vanya’s soft voice was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps, high above them.

Five turned around with the others to see five strangers staring down at them from the upper floor. And then, in front of them, a familiar face, just like the painting on the wall, just like the ghost Five had glimpsed for the briefest of moments. Ben. But at the same time, this wasn’t Ben, there was a cold animosity in the man’s eyes that marked him as someone almost unrecognizable.

“Shit,” Five breathed, staring at the living ghost in front of them, feeling more lightheaded with each second. What did they do? Five thought faintly. How did they fuck up the timeline so badly?

This was his fault, wasn’t it? 

_You’re the one who stranded us here_. 

_No one is insignificant_.

_The butterfly effect_.

It was so hard to breathe, and Five coughed again, trying to pull air into his lungs. The world tilted on its axis, and Five reached out wildly, falling against Klaus as he fell onto his knees.

“Five?” “Five!” 

There was a chorus of panicked and alarmed voices around him. But everything was fading to a muted blur, and Five realized, with a dull, muted panic, that he couldn’t seem to breathe. He coughed, desperate for air, and only the bright copper tang of blood filled his mouth, spilling down his chin. He clawed at his clothes, at his chest, as his body shook weakly. He was on the floor now, and he’d been here before, staring up at the Handler’s, no, the Swede’s gun, pointed at his face. 

He reached for his powers, if he could just wind back time, go back to before this moment- But his powers sputtered and fizzled. Someone was pushing his hands down, someone else was telling him to breathe, and a third voice was yelling for help.

And then, everything, the pain, the noise, the terror, all of it slipped into the dark, as the blackness dragged him under.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks to all of you who commented, I am awful at replies but know that I read and appreciate each one I receive. Reading them brought me a lot of joy in these dark lockdown times and I’m so glad you guys also felt the way I did about the lack of Five resolution.

Klaus really, really hoped that all of this was some sort of bad-cheese induced hallucination. Maybe little Number Five had been right about the sandwiches being a bad idea, it was just that instead of his digestive system staging a rebellion, this time it was his brain that was misfiring due to cheese mold or whatever. It had to be the cheese, since Klaus _thought_ he was sober. And that was only because he, by the unfair fact of there _not being any damn alcohol left in the apartment_ , hadn’t been able to spiral into drinking after spending a full hour trying and failing to conjure a dead ghost. He had been deep in the clutches of denial, then. And Klaus thought that maybe he was moving onto the second stage of grief, whatever the hell that was.

But now there was this. And staring at a weird emo not-Ben after spending the last day trying to deal with the fact of his brother’s _permanent_ demise was really messing with his head.

“Is anyone else seeing-”

Like punishment for opening his mouth, something fell onto Klaus and knocked him off balance. Then, he was scrambling, wide-eyed, to catch Five as his brother’s legs gave out from under him. As he tried to keep the both of them from falling over, Klaus realized that the weird wheezing sound he had been ignoring was not only in fact _real_ but was _coming from Five_.

“Five?” Klaus said, not immediately understanding what was happening as he struggled to hold up Five’s shaking frame. Five had been fine just a moment ago but- _Was that blood dripping from his mouth_?

Klaus fell to his knees beside his brother, and carefully lowered Five’s sagging body to the ground, rolling him so he was flat with his back on the floor. Five was pale, his eyes wild and panicked as he visibly struggled to breathe. Vanya had dived to her knees beside him, and Allison was also rushing forward, both of them shouting Five's name.

“W-what’s going on?” Diego said, his voice faint.

Klaus didn’t know. Five was trembling, choking, lashes fluttering as he arched his neck, gasping for air. With each exhale, more red bubbled from his lips, and his eyes were wide with terror and pain. Five clawed at his chest as he whimpered and choked. Yet in places his fingers barely grazed, dark patches were appearing on his vest, expanding outward. Cold terror wrapped around Klaus as he stared, unable to understand what was happening. 

“Oh God, Five,” Allison’s voice was sharp with horror.

“Five? Five, can you hear me?” Vanya said as she tugged Five’s hands away from his chest, stopping him from hurting himself further. She nudged them back down when Five tried to lift his arms again. “Klaus!”

Instinctively, Klaus pressed his hands over Five’s wounds, wincing as Five’s body bucked in pain. This didn’t make sense, Five was fine _just a few seconds ago_. 

“Why is he bleeding?” Vanya said in a small, hysterical voice.

“Can we get some help here?” Allison screamed above them, turning toward Reginald, and then to the Sparrow Academy.

She was answered only by silence. Allison’s voice echoed the swirling panic and desperate confusion inside of Klaus. His breath stuttered in his chest as he watched the fading light in Five’s eyes, and he pressed down even harder against the growing wetness against his hands. No no no no no. Not this again. He couldn’t do this again. Why was this happening again? He waited for the next round of gunfire, the howl of mortar shells.

“Five? Five. Listen to me,” Vanya was saying, “you need to keep breathing, okay?”

There was too much blood. Klaus pressed as hard as he could, but he already knew it wasn’t going to be enough. The last time he had yelled and screamed and begged but none of it had been enough. Dave had died and Ben had died and now Five was going to die as well. Why did it keep happening? Why couldn’t he ever stop it?

“Five?” Klaus said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Please don’t do this.”

All Klaus could do was hold on.

  
  


-

  
  


Luther was still having trouble processing what had happened to the world he knew. He didn't understand it. How was it that Ben was alive? How was it that Umbrella Academy didn’t exist anymore? How was it that Five had suddenly collapsed, and was bleeding on the floor? Nothing made sense.

Frozen behind Klaus, Luther fought back the instinct to rush over, to take over, knowing that there wasn’t enough space for all of them. From the moment Five hit the floor, the moment his siblings had rushed to his side, he had forced himself to stay where he was so he wouldn't get in the way. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Luther saw one of the people on the upper gallery start moving toward the stairs, before one of their siblings grabbed their arm and stopped them.

“Dad!” Allison cried, staring at Reginald. “We need to help him!”

Jerked back into the moment, Luther whirled around to look at his father. Reginald was watching everything unfold, his expression stony and unreadable, posture stiff, completely unmoved.

There would be time to figure out what was going on later. Right now, Five needed help.

“Dad,” Luther said, stepping forward. “We need to get him to the infirmary. Right now.”

Reginald looked toward him then, and his voice was cool when he responded. “The last few times your brother time travelled, he brought the apocalypse with him. Tell me, what reason do I have to help you, considering the repeated havoc that your group has wreaked upon this timeline?”

“Are you kidding me?” Luther shouted, as rage flared white hot. He could barely believe what he'd just heard. “He’s the only reason you’re still alive! How about that?”

Reginald’s eyes were unreadable. Up until this moment, Luther hadn’t quite let himself believe it, just how cold their father truly was. He had never loved them, Luther knew that, deep down inside, but he had lived in denial anyway. But now, confronted with the fact in a moment like this, there was nothing left to do but to accept the truth. They were only ever weapons to him, experiments, scientific specimens he assessed and tossed aside. They mattered to him even less in this new 2019, than they did in the last.

“In our timeline?” Luther said. “You _killed yourself_ to get us all back together so we could stop the apocalypse, and you know what? We may have messed up the timeline but we succeeded. It’s April 2nd. If Five hadn’t come back to warn us, if he hadn’t time travelled and given us a second chance, then everything in the world would be gone right now. So you, actually, no, _all of us_ , need to _help him_.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, and Luther distantly realized that he couldn’t hear the sound of Five’s wheezing breaths anymore. That was bad. That was very, very bad.

Reginald opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the wailing of the mission alarm split the air.

Luther stiffened, instinct telling him he needed to answer it, before he remembered where he was, and realized, with a stab of pain, who it was meant for. Pogo’s voice sounded over the speakers, issuing out directives to _the Sparrow Academy_.

Luther let out a small sigh of relief. Pogo was still alive, they had fixed some things after all.

Above them on the gallery, the members of the Academy were still staring down at them, unsure of what they should be doing. Ben was also standing there, glancing between the alarm and Luther's siblings, a torn look on his face.

Reginald sighed. “Sparrow Academy, I believe you have a mission.”

With only a moment of hesitation, the Sparrow Academy left in a cacophany of footsteps, and with them, Ben.

“Bring him to the infirmary,” Reginald said. “I suppose he _was_ the only tolerable one out of all of you.”

Luther stood, frozen in shock, before the meaning of Reginald’s words sank in. He turned, and rushed toward Five’s still, silent form. Klaus was still bent over him, staring down in blank panic as he pressed his hands over Five’s injuries. In his desperate hurry, Luther acted on impulse, not thinking twice as he pulled Klaus aside and scooped Five’s limp body into his arms. 

Guilt and realization only struck him when he heard the broken cry that tore from Klaus’ throat, and the thump as his brother hit the ground. But there was no time to apologize or think about it. Five was hurt. He was dying (dead?). Luther stood up and turned to chase after the departing Reginald, not daring to think about how light Five was, the way he lay limp, unmoving, in his arms. On the stairs, when Luther had grabbed a handful of Five’s shirt and thrown him over the bannister, Five had squirmed and flailed and fought right until the moment Luther let go and gravity took over. Now, there was no resistance from his brother at all.

Luther’s boots pounded against the tiles as he rushed ahead of Reginald, who was refusing to move any faster than a brisk walk. His siblings followed close behind as they moved through the house toward the infirmary.

Five wasn’t breathing, Luther faintly registered the fact as he ran down the hallway. The distance between the parlor and the infirmary was short, but every second felt like forever.

Vanya sprinted ahead as they approached the door and pulled it open for Luther. Then, she froze in place, and only turned and backed away when Luther almost ran straight into her.

He turned into the room, and froze.

“Mum?”

Grace, with perfect poise and elegance, stood waiting for them in a flaring yellow dress and surgical gear, a sweet, reassuring smile on her face.

“Ah. Please, put him on the table,” she said, sweeping her arm behind her.

Luther did, trying not to stare as he moved in and laid Five’s body on the metal surface. Five was so pale and still, he looked dead. As Luther backed away, Grace stepped in with a pair of scissors, and started cutting away Five’s bloodied clothing.

Behind Luther, the others had rushed into the room, and he turned toward them helplessly. Only then did he notice, with a tug of worry, that Klaus hadn’t followed them. Allison, Diego, and Vanya were all staring between Grace and Five with wide eyes, and Diego looked like he was going to cry.

Reginald stepped into the room, his lips twitching with a frown as he took in Luther and his siblings, crowded around the edges of the table. Luther moved toward him.

“Do you need blood?” Luther said, his heart racing in his throat. He stared as red spread from under Five, and started to drip down the table. Luther tried not to think about how Five might never move again.

With quick, precise movements, Grace sliced into Five’s chest with a scalpel, before starting to push a tube through the opening.

“What? No, we have plenty.” Reginald said, moving toward the closet where the scrubs were kept. “Now all of you, get out if you want your brother to live.”

“You can’t-” Allison stepped forward.

“I will not ask again, get out.” 

Reginald stood there, rock still, as though he was threatening to let Five bleed out on the table if all of them didn’t leave in that very instant. 

For a moment, Luther could only gape at him.

“Fuck,” Diego breathed, and then, he was running for the door, Allison, Vanya, Luther, all on his heels.

With the clack of stiletto heels, Grace followed them to the door. Behind her, Five laid limp across the table, though Luther thought, with a stab of relief, that he could see his chest rising and falling again.

“Don’t you worry, we’ll take good care of your brother,” Grace said with a gentle smile, as she looked each of them in the eyes. 

Then, she closed the door in their faces.

  
  


-

  
  


One by one, they filed back into the now empty parlor, all of them reeling from what had happened. It was too much. First the battle, saying goodbye to Sissy and Harlan, then the time travel, the Sparrow Academy, Ben being alive again, Five bleeding out on the floor, their father refusing to help, and now, the unknown of whether Five was going to survive, one thing after the other. Vanya’s chest felt tight, and her limbs weak, a nervous tension thrummed just below her skin.

Vanya was the last to make it back. As she walked through the archway, she found, both to her surprise and relief, that Klaus was still there, curled against the couch, on the ground where they had left him. Above the mantelpiece, Ben’s portrait stared down at them all in silent judgement.

“Klaus?” Vanya said softly as she walked over to her brother. Klaus looked terrible, though the rest of them looked no better, after what had just happened.

“Is he dead?” Klaus said, turning his gaze up toward her. He looked exhausted, and haunted in a way that made something inside of Vanya go cold.

Vanya went still at the unexpected question. Had no one else talked to him? “No. Dad and Grace are working on him.”

“Oh.” Klaus said softly, his gaze dropped back to the floor, and he didn’t move again.

Between the couches, Allison was pacing back and forth, chest heaving. Luther stood near her with a blank look of shock. There was blood on his hands and his clothes.

“What the hell just happened?” Diego said in a stunned voice.

There was a moment of silence as no one answered him. It was clear that not a single one of them knew.

Vanya sighed, and rubbed at her face, trying not to think of how Five had looked, swallowed up in Luther’s arms, and then pale and deathly on the surgery table. This has been one _very_ long day.

“I can’t believe Dad just stood there!” Allison said suddenly. Vanya looked up to find there were tears in her eyes. “I should have just rumored him. God, if Five doesn’t make it-”

“He’ll make it,” Luther said, though he didn’t sound like he believed it.

“What happened?” Vanya said, echoing Diego’s confusion. She didn’t understand it. She had noticed Five was acting odd ever since they landed, and heard the strange sound of his breathing as Reginald spoke to them. But the way he deteriorated so quickly didn’t make any sense. There had been _so_ much blood, it was like someone had shot him. “He was fine before we jumped.”

Vanya looked around at her siblings, searching for answers. She had been so wrapped up saying goodbye to Sissy and Harlan, trying to spend as much time together in their final moments as possible, that she hadn’t paid much attention to Five, after the chaos. He had been fine though, hadn’t he?

Klaus wouldn’t look at her. But strangely enough, Allison, Luther, and Diego, all looked faintly guilty. None of them wore it the same way, but it was there on their faces, in the stiffness of their posture.

Diego looked the most sheepish out of them all. “Well…”

“Wait, do _you_ know what’s wrong with him?” Luther said.

“I mean… I guess he was like, coughing a bit at the farm? And he didn’t look great while we were out in the field.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Allison said, throwing her hands up in disbelief. “I found him collapsed in the bathroom!”

“You what?” said Luther, staring at Allison. 

“It’s _Five,_ ” Diego answered, half-shouting. “I couldn’t even open my mouth without him telling me to _go there, check this, stop gawking at that panda mask._ Besides, I thought he was just coming down with a cold or something.” Diego’s voice faded to a low, guilty grumble toward the end, and his eyes were downcast. He was clearly just as worried about Five as the rest of them.

“Well, clearly he got hurt at _some point_.” Vanya said. “Was it Lila?”

“Oh shit,” Luther said, blinking with sudden realization. “What if it was when he fought himself?”

“He did _what_ now?” Allison said.

Vanya gaped at Luther, bewildered. Was this when Five and Luther were trying to get the briefcase from Five’s past self? When her brothers had shown up again after the shooting all Five had offered was a short explanation saying they had tried and failed to secure it. There had been no mention of any sort of fight having happened.

“Well, I don’t think it was when he got beat up at the Mexican consulate,” Diego said, a thoughtful look on his face. “He was alright enough to shout Homer at Dad and everything.”

Vanya turned toward Diego, and her look of horror was mirrored on Allison and Luther’s faces.

“Beat up?” Luther said stiffly.

“Yeah,” Diego shrugged. “When the Swedes found us. He got whaled on for a bit by one of them. But we got out.” 

“His body is thirteen!” Vanya said, remembering Harlan. She pictured his tiny frame, being battered by one of the terrifying men who had chased her through the corn field. “Did you at least check him over?”

“He’s a grown man! If he was hurt he could have sa-” 

“You know he hides injuries!” Allison cried suddenly.

Diego paused, stricken, then sighed, a look of guilt falling across his face that clearly meant the answer to Vanya’s question was no.

Vanya felt cold. She remembered, watching as Luther carried an unconscious Klaus back home after a mission gone wrong. They had been fourteen years old, and Vanya still remembered Grace’s soft words as she told her that Klaus would be fine, the internal bleeding had been tended to.

“God, no wonder he had so many bruises,” Allison said, her head in her hands. “You knew he’s still hurt from that shrapnel wound, Diego!”

“Shrapnel?” Vanya murmured, looking between her siblings. When had that happened?

Diego rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, that was like months ago-”

“2019 was _last week_ for him!”

Diego blinked at Allison, as though it had only just occurred to him then that Five hadn’t been in sixties Dallas for anywhere near as long as the rest of them. “But-”

Vanya sighed, taking pity on her brother. “Yeah. I’d only been there for like… a month? I mean, I spent it on a farm not knowing who I was. But, I think Five might have… came looking for us the moment he landed.”

Diego glanced at Vanya, and then at Allison, and at the rest of them. He looked like someone had just punched him in the face. 

“Well, it doesn’t mean he couldn’t have said something,” Diego grumbled eventually, crossing his arms. His words were defensive, but there was no force behind it.

Beside them, Luther was wearing a blank look of alarm. It clearly wasn’t Diego who’d just assumed that Five had been around for longer than he actually was. It was easier to lose perspective, maybe, when so much time had already passed for them.

“I think I fucked up.” Luther said suddenly.

Vanya glanced at Luther, having no idea what he was talking about. But Luther simply stared straight ahead, a vaguely mortified look on his face. Then, she turned toward Klaus, who had been uncharacteristically quiet this entire time. 

Slumped against the foot of the couch, Klaus was staring at the blood on his hands, picking at the sticky, drying brown. 

“Klaus?” Vanya said softly.

The others looked over at the sound of her voice. Klaus kept staring at his hands, and didn’t respond. 

“Klaus.” Vanya said again, a little louder.

“Hmm?” Klaus looked up with wide, empty eyes, and the barest suggestion of a smile on his lips.

“Do you… know what might have happened to Five?” Vanya asked carefully.

“No,” Klaus said. “I haven’t really spent any time with him. You know Five, always running around, trying to save the world…”

Vanya’s worry grew as she watched Klaus. He’d clearly been hit harder by what happened than the rest of them. He had been the one to catch Five when he collapsed, the one who had tried to stop the bleeding. It couldn’t have been easy, when he had apparently fought in a war. Did Dave...?

“You know, there might be one other possibility,” Diego said suddenly, his voice quiet.

“Well? What is it?” Allison said.

“When Five and I were talking to the Handler, she said something about him killing the Board of Directors. And from the way she said it, I think it had something to do with the rest of us.”

Vanya knew, objectively, that her eldest (youngest?) brother used to be some sort of time-travelling assassin. She’d patched him up, that night in her apartment, knowing that some sort of violence must have happened for him to be hurt like that. But it was one thing to hear Five or the others talking about the Commission, and another thing entirely to hear Diego saying aloud that Five had been killing people. It made it more real somehow.

“Wait, is _that_ why he showed up covered in blood?” Luther said. 

“I mean… That’d explain where it came from.” Diego shrugged, brow furrowed as he mulled things over.

“I’m sorry, Five showed up _covered in blood_ and neither of you asked him why? Or checked if he was injured?” Allison said.

“Again, he looked fine, alright?” Diego snapped. “And it wasn’t like he was giving away details. He wouldn’t answer any questions.”

“Yeah, I mean, he was just talking about how he’d found a way home and that we had to go find the rest of you guys right away,” Luther said, and then blinked, as he finally connected the dots. “Oh, wait.”

“Again,” Allison said. “Covered. In blood.”

“How did Five even kill an entire board?” Vanya said, not quite able to believe that her small, thirteen year old sized brother could have done something like that. She had never been on missions with her siblings, and though she knew that Five’s ability must be useful in a fight, it was hard to picture what he could actually do with it. “That has to be like, what, a dozen people?”

Vanya was trying not to think about how many people she’d killed in the field.

Diego shrugged. “I don’t know. Same way he single-handedly killed all those goons at Griddy’s, probably? He always liked to zap around, take people by surprise.”

“Griddy’s?” Luther said, his voice small. “Wait, in 2019?”

“Yeah, he-” Diego looked around at them. “Didn’t I tell you guys about this?”

“No!” Allison yelled.

“Wait, you said he was _there_ at the shootout,” Luther said. “Not that he killed everyone involved in it!”

“What did you think happened? They were there to _kill_ him _._ It wasn’t like they just started shooting at each other for no reason,” Diego said, and then frowned. “Did I really not tell you guys?”

Vanya just shrugged when Diego turned toward her, because no one ever really told her anything, before, and he should already have known that. She had spent most of that week either together with Leonard or as the family pariah for different (though occasionally justified) reasons. If it had been something that happened in 2019, then maybe it explained how Five had gotten the cut on his arm, that first night?

She glanced over again at Klaus, and found him still staring at the drying blood on his hands.

“Oh.” Diego said. “Maybe not then. I had a lot going on.” 

Allison sighed. “So… Five has been in at least… five fights in the past two weeks. And we have no idea when, or _how_ , he actually got hurt.”

“Six.” “Six.” Luther and Diego said simultaneously.

“What?” Allison said.

“There was also a shootout at the department store,” Luther said, looking toward Diego.

“He got hurt escaping the Commission, didn’t he?” Diego answered at the same time. "That shrapnel had to have come from somewhere."

Allison gaped at them for a moment. “So… seven fights.”

“That we know about.” Vanya added with a soft sigh, closing her eyes.

There was a moment of silence, as the fact sank in. Had all of that happened in just two weeks, for Five? It couldn’t be right. What had Five been _doing_?

“It still doesn’t explain how he just spontaneously started bleeding,” Vanya said.

“So really, we don’t know anything,” Allison sighed.

“Did he really kill a bunch of people just to get his hands on a briefcase?” Luther mumbled.

“Was it one of the Sparrow Academy, you think?” Diego said, pulling out one of his knives and holding it loosely in one hand, looking like he wanted something to throw it at.

“Even if one of them had that kind of power, why would they randomly try to kill Five?” Luther said.

Diego opened his mouth to answer, and then sighed when he couldn’t come up with anything. “I need a drink.” Diego started walking toward the bar.

“I’m going back to the infirmary,” Allison said, and turned to walk off. 

“I’ll come with you,” Luther followed after her.

Before long, it was just Vanya and Klaus left in the parlor. Vanya looked at Klaus, who was still slumped against the couch, staring at his hands.

“Hey Klaus?

“Yeah?” Klaus said, looking like he was about ready to crawl out of his skin. 

“Want to come get a drink with me?”

“Sure,” Klaus mumbled, and started clambering to his feet. “Whiskey or vodka?” 

“No. Hot chocolate.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Let’s go wash your hands first, yeah?” Vanya stepped forward, tugged at Klaus, and gently pulled him away.

  
  


-

  
  


With the Sparrow Academy gone, the kitchen was empty. The room still had a familiar layout, but small details were different, just like everything else in the house. Vanya knocked about making two mugs of hot chocolate, and Klaus didn’t offer to help. Who knew if things were still in the same places in this crooked timeline. But she seemed to know what she was doing.

Klaus sat at the kitchen table, absently rubbing his fingers. He had scrubbed himself clean with hot water and a now filthy towel, but he felt like he could still feel the stickiness of the blood. The metallic smell of it was still right there at his nose.

“You alright?” Vanya said.

That was a very broad question, given all the possible definitions of alright. What did it mean, to be alright, exactly? His mind kept jumping, between Five, Dave, and Ben, and it was like his family was still wailing in his ears, the mortars howling. He was up to his elbows in blood again. He wanted to drink everything in Dad’s cabinet and pass out for maybe a year. Did that fit the definition of alright?

Dave was dead. Five will probably be dead soon, if he wasn’t already. And Ben...

“Did you see… Ben, as well?” Klaus said.

Vanya paused, and turned toward him from the counter. “Yes, Klaus. I saw him.”

So maybe not a hallucination. And not a ghost. Which made sense, because Klaus wasn’t sure why he’d hallucinate Ben looking like some sort of of emo Scarface. It was a terrible look for him, really. Clearly in this timeline, Klaus hadn’t been there to talk him out of poor aesthetic decisions.

“Maybe I’m not going crazy after all,” he said. He really, really wanted a drink right now.

Vanya put down a mug of hot chocolate in front of him, sweet-smelling and full with floating marshmallows. Klaus started cradling it on autopilot, soaking in the warmth.

“Or maybe we’re all going crazy together,” Vanya said, slipping into the chair beside Klaus. “Dad always said time travel could mess with the mind.”

“I always try not to think about whatever Dad might have to say,” Klaus said, taking a cautious sip of his drink. It was deliciously sugary. 

For a moment, there was silence.

“I can’t believe we’ve all been unadopted.” Klaus said.

“God, I have no idea what’s happening,” Vanya said, rubbing her temples with a sigh. “What even is the Sparrow Academy? And what about us? Where are we in this timeline? Am I supposed to have new memories or something?”

“Eh,” Klaus said with a weak shrug. “I wouldn’t worry about it, I’m sure it’d all get explained eventually. I mean, knowing Five-”

Klaus faltered. They had both been trying very hard to not talk about Five, or the fact that neither of them knew if their brother had just died in their arms without them knowing it.

“He probably has answers.” It was too early to use past tense, right? Even if Klaus knew that there had been too much blood for a thirteen year old to lose. “Either that or he won’t stop until he finds them.” Wouldn’t have stopped until he found them?

There was an empty, hollow feeling inside of him, a numbness that Klaus knew well. It was the dooming terror of loneliness, the realization that sometimes you didn’t have to do anything for the things you loved to be ripped away from you. That you could scream and fight and beg as hard for as long as you wanted and nothing would save you. Klaus had never feared death, or the dead, as much as he feared being alone. And now the Ben he knew was gone, Five was dead, and Klaus was suddenly much lonelier in the world.

Vanya didn’t say anything, and stared blankly into her mug.

“And I mean, Diego, or Luther, I’m sure they’d look into it. They seem to love a good mystery.” Klaus started speaking again, when the silence started to feel like too much.

A cold, desperate part of Klaus felt like he shouldn’t be this upset about some crazy kid-old-man who kept rearranging his life and then vanishing again for years on end. It was three times now, that Klaus’ steady, miserable existence had been turned upside down by his brother. And the thing was, he barely even _knew_ Five. Five was just the asshole runaway brother who hurt the family and got him tortured and trapped in time and _still_ owed him twenty bucks. Klaus didn’t owe Five anything, aside from maybe his life, and Five had no damn right to die in his arms like that and cement himself a permanent place in Klaus’ nightmares.

This would all be so much easier, if Five didn’t clearly love him still, despite forty-five years in an apocalypse. And if Klaus hadn’t spent chunks of the last twenty years missing and worrying about Five in turn, if Klaus didn’t love him back just as easily.

“I hope he makes it,” Vanya said softly, her voice cracking.

Klaus looked over at Vanya. Vanya had always been close to Five, before he vanished. And Klaus remembered the lights she had left on, the sandwiches she'd put out. He remembered that Five had always been gentle with her, spent time with her even when the rest of them ignored her for one reason or another. It had probably hit her the hardest out of all of them, when Five never came home.

Vanya seemed even smaller like this, hunched over her mug, arms tucked close to her sides like she didn’t have the energy to pretend she was okay anymore. She looked cold. Klaus reached over and gently tugged her closer, until he could wrap his arms around her, and rest his chin on top of her head.

“Yeah, me too,” Klaus murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair.

  
  


-

  
  


It was hours before the door to the infirmary opened for any of them again, and by then, all five of them had gravitated to the hallway outside. They waited, either sitting or leaning against the wall, as the minutes ticked by.

Diego stood apart from the rest of his siblings, arms folded, scowling and hating the situation with every fibre of his being.

In the immediate aftermath, he had downed a good measure of Reginald’s best scotch and then started rifling through the contents of the room, staring at the changed paintings and hurling his knives around in bursts of frustration. But none of it distracted him in the way he desperately needed, and the only thing he could think about was the pale, limp form of Five, tiny in Luther’s giant arms. Five wasn’t supposed to look like that, he was supposed to be bright-eyed and obnoxious, witty and demanding, darting around buzzing with more caffeine in his system than was healthy for his growing body.

Diego had avoided the patch of blood on the carpet until he found himself unable to stop staring at it. He still felt like complete shit, after the way that Vanya and Allison had chewed him out for not looking out for Five. On any other day he could just shake it off. Because Five was a fifty-eight year old man despite how old his body was, and that meant Diego was supposed to be able to trust him to take responsibility for himself and communicate if he was injured. But right now, Five was behind the infirmary door, fighting for his life, and the fact of it meant that being angry at Five made _him_ the asshole. 

And the worst thing was, Diego could blame Five as much as he wanted, but it still wouldn't change the fact that he knew he could have done better. He had just been so mad at Five for the way he ratted him out to the guards, for how he refused to share Diego’s conviction about JFK’s significance, for the way he just swept back into their lives again after months of absence and demanded them all to march to his tune. In his worst moments, Five reminded Diego of everything he hated about Reginald and Luther, the way they had always made him feel small and dumb and insignificant.

Five reminded him of how much he hated himself just as much as he inspired him to do better.

Yet Five was human, fallible, just like himself or Luther. Diego had gone after Reginald on his own and gotten himself stabbed for his trouble, of course the same could have happened to Five during the countless times he ran off alone. Diego could have been there, they could have stuck together. He could have been better.

All of them had just gotten their brother back. What were they going to do if they lost Five again?

Something inside of Diego had snapped, when the serious possibility of losing Five for good hit him. And he had stalked his way to the infirmary and planted himself near a surprised Allison and Luther. They barely said anything to each other besides hello.

The silence stung, even if it felt unavoidable, and Diego found himself similarly struggling to find a topic that wouldn’t feel meaningless in the face of what had just happened. Another one of them had almost died ~~(might be dead)~~ and Diego had no idea what had caused it. He was so _angry_ that he knew anything that came out of his mouth would be scathing and mean. Who had done this to Five? Was it one of the Sparrow Academy? Nothing else made sense, but that theory didn’t quite seem to fit either.

At some point as they waited, the Sparrow Academy returned from their mission, and the sound of chatter and footsteps announced their return to the house. None of them came near the infirmary. And it felt like a weird slap to the face, somehow, that Reginald’s replacement for them was so much better that no one even got the slightest bit injured on a mission.

Soon after the Sparrow Academy returned, Vanya and Klaus appeared at the same time, doubtlessly having been kicked out of wherever they had been, and joined them in their vigil.

The silence and tension was intolerable, but none of them were brave enough to break it, every topic seemed too small when none of them knew if Five was going to survive the night. So Diego stewed in his own thoughts, ignoring the growing burn of his stab wound, where he had torn his stitches all the way back in 1963. And he waited.

Diego was fiddling with a knife, spinning it back and forth in his hand, when the infirmary door finally clicked open again. Vanya shot up from the floor as Luther and Allison rushed forward. Klaus stayed sitting, but stared up at them, eyes wide. 

Diego took a step forward as the door swung open to reveal Reginald. His hands were clean and his clothing was spotless, like he had just spent the past few hours doing some light reading instead of in surgery. He paused when he saw all of them standing outside the door, his expression shifting with light consternation.

“Is he alive?” Luther said in a rush.

“How is he?” said Allison.

“Your brother is still alive,” Reignald said. “Though his condition remains serious. He will be kept under monitoring for the time being. If he is lucky, he will recover.”

“Oh, thank God,” Allison murmured, falling back a step. 

All of them sagged with relief. Luther let out a bark of laughter as Diego let out a long breath. Vanya nudged Klaus with her foot, eyes bright, and Klaus had pulled his knees to his chest, and was staring at the opposite wall like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard.

“I am curious, however, as to how it was that Five showed up with multiple gunshot injuries while the rest of you appear unharmed,” Reginald continued without missing a beat, studying each of them with cautious judgement. “Or how these injuries seem to have spontaneously manifested without any significant warning.”

“What are you talking about?” Diego said, brows furrowing.

“Gunshot wounds?” said Allison.

“He really was shot?” Vanya blinked in surprise.

Luther’s mouth fell open as he stared at Reginald. “You mean you don’t know?”

“What am I supposed to know, exactly? I have had no involvement in any of your activities.” Reginald spoke like he was stating the obvious, as he scrutinized them all one after another. 

“I thought-” Luther mumbled. “Well shit.”

Reginald’s eyes narrowed at Luther.

“Curious,” Reginald said after a beat. “It would appear that none of you even knew of his injuries.”

Diego grit his teeth against the unspoken accusation. _The Umbrella Academy has failed one of their own_ , again. God, their Dad was unbearable. 

Allison was looking over Reginald’s shoulder toward Five, worry etched on her face. “Can we see him?”

“If you must.” Reginald said, not moving from the doorway.

For a second, Allison looked like she was going to shove Reginald aside to get to Five. Then, she blinked, and took a step back. Luther put a hand on her shoulder.

“I suppose you will want to stay here,” Reginald continued, in a rare display of humanity. “I presume you know where the guest rooms and facilities are. Try not to make nuisances of yourselves. If you cause any trouble you will be expelled from this property. We can talk again once your brother is coherent. In the meantime, you have my permission to remain in this building.”

With that, Reginald walked off into the house. The rest of them stared after him with matching faces of stunned disbelief.

“Well, Dad’s definitely still the same.” Luther said.

“He never changes, does he?” said Vanya.

“Home, sweet home.” Diego sighed.

He hadn’t missed this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to all of you who commented, I see you and I love you and learning that you guys are enjoying this is giving me joy and motivation like nothing else.
> 
> You may not believe this but this is actually me trying my best to minimise season 3 speculation. I have not been very successful at it.

There used to be countless places in the mansion that Allison could go when she couldn’t sleep. But all of them felt off limits to her now. 

She hadn’t tried to find her old room again. The space didn’t belong to her anymore, and after the last few hours, she didn’t want to deal with the added pain of seeing all of her old belongings gone. Besides, the Sparrow Academy would probably see her presence as an invasion - their old rooms probably belonged to them now. Despite her curiosity about their replacements, Allison avoided them the best that she could, knowing she didn't have it in her to cope with even more unknowns right now, not after everything that had happened. None of her old hiding spots were safe anymore. 

After Reginald had left them in that hallway, each of them had checked on their brother and confirmed for themselves that Five was still alive, still breathing, even if it was only with the aid of machines. As she stood there at Five’s bedside, it had been hard to see anything other than a hurt thirteen year old boy, and staring at him, Allison couldn’t stop thinking about Claire. She missed her daughter so hard she could barely breathe.

Allison hadn’t been brave enough to try calling, yet, not knowing if the call would even connect.

Eventually, they had scattered back into the mansion. Vanya had stayed with Five as Allison, Luther, and Klaus found themselves some dinner, and Diego disappeared to do whatever it was that he wanted to do. Allison had only hoped that it didn’t involve antagonizing the Sparrow Academy somehow. Then, they'd each picked out a guest room, and did their best to get some rest.

Sometime past midnight, unable to sleep, and with nowhere else to go, Allison found herself drifting back to the infirmary, and Five.

Opening the door to the room, Allison paused in surprise when she found that Luther was already there inside, sitting beside their brother. He looked up as Allison approached, and gave her a weak smile in greeting when she slipped into the chair opposite him. Grace was nowhere to be seen.

“You can’t sleep either, huh?” Luther said. He had washed his shirt at some point, and the blood that had stained it were now only damp marks on the fabric.

Allison just nodded and sighed softly, trying for a reassuring smile that probably only made her look miserable. She had spent hours lying there, missing the warm, solid presence of Ray, wanting nothing else than to crawl into his arms and listen to his soft voice as he told her that everything was going to be alright. That Five was going to live, that Claire was still out there, that her entire life and career hadn’t just been rewritten into something unrecognizable. If something as significant as the Umbrella Academy could cease to exist, then what about everything else? She had already lost Ray, what else was she going to lose? Her thoughts had gone around and around in circles until she couldn’t take it anymore.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the rhythmic hiss of the ventilator helping Five breathe. Allison stared at Five’s pale face, and then leaned forward, stroking back the strands of messy black hair. It was starting to get just a bit too long for him. 

Her brother looked small and terrifyingly fragile, lying on the bed like this with tubes coming out of him. At times like these it was hard to see the fifty-eight year old man inside. Five looked exactly like she had remembered, and often acted like just as much of a brat. There were times around Five that her mother’s instincts, honed from years watching over Claire, would kick in, and she had to remind herself that Five wasn’t someone to be treated with kid gloves.

Usually it wasn’t hard, when she saw the haunted look that he wore sometimes. It had been there in his eyes, when he had confessed that he’d found their bodies, that he had seen them all die. 

Allison hadn’t been able to stop thinking about when Ben died, ever since Vanya told them what happened when Ben’s ghost had saved her. In that moment of Vanya’s confession, Allison had hated Klaus, had been furious at him for lying about Ben, even if she hadn’t given voice to the fact when she saw the devastation on Klaus’ face. Klaus had known Ben had been there all this time, had to have known how much all of them had missed him, but instead of giving them a chance to see and talk to Ben again after all the years they had spent grieving, Klaus had just- drank and joked and messed around like usual, like he never even cared. She had never had the chance to see Ben, to talk to him again.

The moment that Klaus had manifested Ben’s ghost had been such a wild moment of hope and joy. Allison had mourned Ben once already, grieved and came to terms with it, long before Klaus revealed that they might have something like a second chance. And now, even as an alternate version of him walked the very halls of the mansion, Allison was forced to mourn him all over again.

She had never thought about how it might be possible to lose a person twice. First Ben, and now, very nearly - Five.

“Do you remember when Ben died?” Allison said softly, breaking the silence.

Luther, who had been staring blankly at the floor, looked up at her in surprise. “I don’t think I can forget it, Dad certainly never stopped reminding us.”

_I want to forget it, but I can’t_ , Five had said.

After Ben died they’d had one day to mourn, before they were pushed back into training and sent back out on missions. Every time they messed up or failed, every time they disappointed their father’s expectations, Ben’s name would be dredged up from the depths as a reminder of the stakes and consequences. First, Five’s portrait had been hung up to remind to them all about the dangers of disobedience. And then, Ben’s statue erected to remind them all of the risks of failure. Every sibling Allison had lost had been used against her. If she wasn’t good enough, who knew whose life she’d endanger next? Who knew who would abandon her next?

She had needed so desperately to feel like she was good enough.

“Did you know I used to blame Five?” Allison said, her voice soft as she studied her brother’s sleeping face. She drew her hand back. “For the longest time I thought Dad was right. We were supposed to be a team. And that team was supposed to have Five in it. If Five had been there that day, then Ben would still be alive.” 

Five was the one who could teleport, he was the one who could jump through time, if he had been there he could have stopped it. Five could have gotten to Ben before he was struck down. Five could have gone back in time to save him. He could have turned the tide. It was supposed to be the seven of them against the world. But Five had gone and abandoned them all. Five hadn’t cared.

“And when Ben died, that was it for me,” Allison continued. “The team didn’t exist anymore.” How could it? Without Five? Without Ben? Vanya had gotten some things right in her book, in the end.

Luther was staring at her in amazement, and Allison offered him a small, reassuring smile. 

“It was easier, I think, to blame the person who wasn’t there,” Allison explained, her gaze turning back toward Five. “That way I wouldn’t have to blame myself, or any of you.” 

Five wasn’t there to explain himself, he couldn’t prove her wrong. Blaming him had been a selfish thing to do, but the thought had kept her sane, kept her from directing her grief and anger at the people who didn’t deserve it. Then, as the years passed, and the memory of Ben grew distant, the pain of his death faded, it had helped her move on. By then, it was easier for her to accept that sometimes, you simply had no control over who, or what you lost.

“I know,” Luther said, his voice gentle. “I… did something similar, I think. It was easier for me to blame all of you for leaving, than to blame Dad for driving you all away, or myself, for choosing to stay. I never really even thought about it, not until Diego pointed it out to me, back when we were trying to look for Five after the attack on the Academy.”

Allison knew that Luther had blamed himself for Ben’s death. He’d always seen himself as the leader, and in his eyes, keeping all of them safe had been his responsibility. Luther’s reaction had been to hold on even tighter to what he had left. They’d each dealt with the loss in their own catastrophic ways.

“How did you find him in the end?” Allison said quietly. She had never gotten the full details of what happened among her brothers in those hectic few days. She had been so busy worrying over Vanya, and then, the impending apocalypse. So much had happened so quickly, they never had the chance to sit down and fill in the blanks.

Luther huffed in soft laughter. “He was passed out in the library cuddling his mannequin. I think he drank a whole bottle of vodka.”

“Why?” Allison frowned. _A whole bottle?_ “What happened?”

“Uh… he said the world he knew had gone bye-bye?” Luther said. “I think the uh, the glass eye, his lead for the end of the world, dried up. That was when he told me about the apocalypse.”

For a moment, Allison stared at Five in disbelief.

“He thought we were all going to die again,” Allison said with dawning realization. “That he failed.”

“Yeah he… took it pretty hard.”

Ever since Five’s return, Allison had had trouble reconciling the cruel, cold-hearted version of the brother she had created in her grief - the traitor who had deliberately abandoned them all, with the real one. The real Five would push himself past his own limits, through pain and failures, to save the world, to save her and her family. The real Five had grieved them, had regretted his decisions, and fought for forty-five years to come back to them.

Struck by a wave of helpless fondness, Allison lifted her hand, and gently stroked Five’s hair again. Something like sadness, like her own regret, churned inside of her. “I wonder how many times he broke down like that, without us ever knowing.”

“What do you mean?”

Allison glanced over at Luther, and found him watching her, eyes clear and curious. 

“You know, yesterday in the parlor, that’s the third time I’ve seen him collapsed, since he showed up again in 2019?” 

Luther’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, _third_?”

Allison nodded, waiting for the fear and worry that had come rushing back with the memories to fade into something less painful. “I don’t know if either of them told you, but he collapsed when we were at Harold Jenkins’ house. He had a shrapnel injury, the same one Diego and I mentioned. He hadn’t bothered to treat it, never banadaged it, never even took the metal out. He just kept… going, until he lost so much blood he passed out.”

It had been so stupid, yet at the same time, so heartbreaking, that Five had thought something like that was necessary. Allison had had half a heart to yell at Five for how dumb his behavior was, for not bothering to take care of himself when _they needed him_. The way Five had shown up, ready to save the world and all the people in it, it had reawakened the hurt little girl inside of Allison. She needed Five to be there, this time, she wanted him to have all the answers, to fix everything. 

_The last time we all tried to do this, we all died. Why is this time any different?_

_Because this time, I’m here._

It almost convinced her, the way Five acted, that she had been right. If Five had been there that day, Ben would still be alive. And if Ben was still alive, then the family wouldn’t have fallen apart, and if the family hadn’t fallen apart, maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have all died in their attempt to stop the apocalypse, the first time around.

Was that how Five saw it? Had he blamed himself all this time?

“Then at the farmhouse, just before we left 1963. I walked into the bathroom and- he was sprawled on the floor. His wound had never healed and he had so many bruises, Luther. I still can’t believe Diego never-” Allison cut herself off. There was no use in blaming Diego now.

Guilt flickered across Luther’s eyes, and he turned to stare at Five. Allison had wondered if Luther hadn’t also noticed something was wrong, but hadn’t thought enough of it at the time to say anything.

“And you were there for the third time.” Allison said quietly. “We all were.”

“Why didn’t he say something to us?” Luther said.

“I don’t know.” Allison sighed. Maybe Five didn’t think there was time. Maybe he didn’t think it was bad enough. Maybe their brother was just overconfident to the point of not knowing to ask for help unless the fate of the world was at risk. “I don’t… What do we know about Five, really?”

They knew the broad strokes of what he’d gone through. Decades in an apocalypse, working for the Commission as an assassin. Allison knew that Five was determined, that he felt responsible, even guilty for everything that had happened. But aside from all that?

“He told me he...” Luther took a deep breath, a conflicted expression on his face. “He told me he never enjoyed killing.”

Allison looked over toward Five, and remembered what Diego had said, about how Five had taken out the Commission’s Board of Directors for a chance to bring them home.

“He said he was… lonely,” Luther continued, hesitant, perhaps knowing he was giving up Five’s secrets, yet unsure whether telling her this was right. “All those years in the apocalypse.”

“I can’t imagine what it must have been like,” Allison said. She didn't think she had ever been alone in the way that Five and Luther had been.

“Yeah, I mean, I was only alone for four years, and it nearly drove me insane. And Five was alone for forty-five years, that’s...”

Allison reached out, and squeezed Luthor’s arm, smiling back when Luther looked at her and gave her a small smile.

“You know,” Allison said, “he told me something too, before we came back here from 1963.” Perhaps it was only fair to tell Luther when he had just given up Five’s secrets to comfort her.

Luther watched her, eyes curious.

“I don’t think… he meant to say it. He was injured, feverish, but he told me that…” She smiled, small and sad. “All he ever wanted, was for the rest of us to have a chance to grow old.”

Luther stared at her, struck by his words. His gaze fell to Five, asleep on the bed, and then laughed softly. “He said something like that to me too, once. Called me a young man with my whole life ahead of me. Told me not to waste it.”

Allison chuckled softly. She could picture Five saying those exact words. In some ways, the Five Allison had constructed in her head at seventeen had been right. Five was smart, capable, and could probably turn the tide in any fight. But in so many ways, she was wrong as well. Five had let them down, but he had never betrayed them. Five cared deeply and loved all of them fiercely. Allison just had no way of knowing it, until Five finally found his way back to them again.

“I think… we need to keep a better eye on Five.” Allison said, as the two of them sat and watched over their brother.

“You think I didn’t try?” Luther sighed. “He can teleport out of any situation, thinks he’s smarter than the rest of us, and never tells us anything unless he needs something. I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing, half the time.”

“Then maybe… we need to be more subtle about it,” said Allison, mulling over their options. “Let him think he’s protecting us, instead of the other way around.”

Luther considered her words for a moment. “You know, that would probably work. Sometimes I think his savior complex is worse than Diego’s.”

Allison burst into soft laughter.

  
  


-

  
  


It was the early hours of the morning when Diego woke up again with a start, the stab wound in his stomach burning with pain.

He lay there for a moment, staring up into the dark, as he tried to figure out if he was likely enough to survive until morning if he just shifted around a bit and tried to go back to sleep. But the pain was becoming hard to ignore. The meds he’d found in the kitchen earlier that night had most definitely worn off, and he knew he should properly redo the stitches he’d pulled. He would have done so already if there hadn't been people in the infirmary constantly, watching over Five. He didn’t want to have another conversation about hiding injuries and not communicating with the others. And his own wound wasn’t nearly as bad as what had happened to Five, however the hell his brother actually got hurt.

And going to the infirmary meant possibly running into Mum, and meant having to see Five lying there, pale and cold and looking about as good as dead.

Except the wound was really starting to hurt.

With a frustrated groan, Diego pushed himself off the bed and got to his feet, wincing as his injury protested the movement. He’d fallen onto the bed fully dressed earlier, and it was a saving grace now that meant he didn't have to change. Limping slightly, he exited his room and made his way across the house, praying that he wouldn’t run into any of his siblings, or worse, someone from the Sparrow Academy.

Mercifully, he made it to his destination without incident. The door to the infirmary was closed when he arrived, and Diego carefully nudged it open.

Inside, he didn’t see any of his siblings, but the lone figure sitting at Five’s beside froze Diego to the spot.

“Mum?” Standing in the doorway, Diego felt his heart begin to race. He had seen her, earlier in the chaos, and then again when they’d checked in on Five. But he hadn’t been brave enough to talk to her, and they hadn’t been alone, then.

There was no response, and Diego tried to ignore the cold pit that had opened in his stomach.

He tried again. “Grace?” 

At the sound of her name, Grace turned around toward him and stood up with a polite, friendly smile. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Do you-” Diego paused. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Why, of course I do,” Grace’s smile did not change as she walked closer. “You are Diego, you are one of our guests.”

“Right,” Diego said, forcing a smile. “I-I uh, I don’t suppose you remember me by my other name? Number Two?”

Grace’s expression went blank, as what Diego had said clearly conflicted with the information in her memory banks. “Would you like me to refer to you as Number Two?”

“No!” Diego recoiled, wincing. “Just. Diego is fine.” She didn’t remember him, of course she didn’t, this wasn’t even surprising, after the way she had treated them all earlier that night. Some part of him had just hoped-

“Of course,” Grace smiled. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Uh.” Diego said, not sure if he could take this, the complete lack of recognition in his mother’s eyes. He glanced at Five. “How’s he doing?”

“Your brother is stable, for the time being.” Grace said, looking over at his brother. “I will be checking his vital signs regularly and monitoring his recovery.”

“Right,” Diego said. “Good thing you were uh… here, when we brought Five. Thanks for helping him.”

“Of course, I always prepare the infirmary when the children go out on a mission.”

That’s right. Diego remembered now, how Mum had always been ready and waiting with supplies, whenever they returned with injuries. At the time he’d never questioned it, assuming Reginald had sent word ahead. But it would be so much more efficient and simple to program her to ready the infirmary from the moment they left on a mission. When the mission alarm rang and the Sparrow Academy had left-

The Sparrow Academy were Grace’s children now, weren't they? Anger flared inside of Diego, alongside an ugly feeling that he didn’t want to call jealousy. How the fuck had everything gotten this tangled up?

“Yeah, that’s great,” Diego said, biting his lip against the growing pain of his wound. “Uh, would you have painkillers? And surgical thread?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Grace said. “Are you injured, Diego? Would you like some help?”

Diego stared at Grace, and for a moment, he was speechless. She looked exactly the same as he remembered, and was identical in every way to the woman he had met in 1963. It was so much more fucked up, knowing that Reginald had based Grace on a living, breathing person, someone with their own hopes and dreams. That he’d apparently dealt with his breakup by building a subservient, immortally beautiful robot in the real Grace's image. And Diego had thought Reginald couldn’t possibly disgust him any more than he already did. 

The Grace in front of him wasn’t his mother anymore, not in this altered timeline. But Diego thought that, maybe, just maybe, he could still see the same worry in her eyes. The worry that meant she cared.

“Yeah.” Diego said, feeling weak. “Yes please.”

Grace reached forward with a smile, and offered her hand.

Diego took her hand, and let her lead him inside. 

The door clicked closed behind him.

  
  


-

  
  


Luther and Allison had sat together for almost an hour at Five’s bedside before Allison’s exhaustion caught up with her, and she left to go back to bed. Luther, left by himself, lasted another ten minutes before he found he couldn’t stand sitting at Five’s bedside any longer. 

He had left the infirmary for his room, and then tossed and turned for another few hours, until he gave up on getting any sleep, and decided to go for a walk instead.

Luther used to do it a lot - wander through the halls of the house - back in the years without his siblings. He would explore every room, study each painting, and sometimes climb up to the roof to look at the clouds or the stars. When he felt particularly lonely, he would stand in his siblings’ abandoned rooms, filled still with their belongings, and remember the years when all of them were still around. He liked to think that he knew their home better than anyone in his family, simply because he had spent the most time getting to know all of its its quirks and details.

Yet since the moment he’d arrived back in 2019, dissonance had been a constant, uncomfortable sensation at the back of his mind. The house was exactly the same, yet different in so many ways. 

It would have been easier if everything had changed, but the floorplan, the furniture, even the decorations, most of it was just as he remembered it. The third window in the dining room was still jammed, and the eighth step of the foyer stairs still creaked when you put weight on it. But at the same time, just enough had been changed for it to be unsettling. It was like returning home one day to find that someone had moved all of your belongings around. Your favorite mug was missing, your family photos replaced, the painting you never made your mind up about gone like it had never been there at all. It was home, but at the same time, every little detail told him it wasn’t the home he knew. 

Luther was so distracted, walking through the halls and trying to pinpoint the changes, that he walked into Pogo quite literally beside Grace's charging station. As the two of them regained their balance, Luther stumbled back in surprise, mumbling apologies.

“That is quite alright,” Pogo said, watching him with a wary curiosity. “You did appear to be quite distracted, it was my fault for not saying something to alert you to my presence.”

Pogo was alive, he was fine, and just as Luther remembered him. He stared for a moment, before he bowed his head, remembering it was rude to do so.

“I’m sorry, I just… didn’t expect to run into anyone at this hour.” Luther said. He remembered how angry he had been at Pogo, right before he died, and that anger felt meaningless now. This Pogo probably didn’t even know him, and had never had the chance to betray him.

“You do not seem particularly surprised by my existence, like most tend to be.”

“Uh… no, I mean, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we’re from an alternate timeline. And in that timeline, we were the Umbrella Academy. Reginald was our Dad, and we grew up with you, and Grace, and-” Luther gestured at the mansion around them.

“Yes, I have heard,” Pogo said, nodding his head. “Though it all sounds rather fantastical, I suppose it is merely improbable, and not impossible.”

Luther nodded, feeling incredibly awkward and out of his depth. “Well, as weird as it sounds, it’s true.”

“Then I suppose you know that my name is Pogo.”

“Right, yes,” Luther said, realizing he needed to introduce himself. “Uh. My name is Luther.” 

Pogo didn’t know him anymore. It seemed like no one did - not Dad, not Grace. For so many years, the three of them had been the only people who bore witness to Luther’s life, and now it was like all of it had been erased. There was no one left to remember those years but himself. 

Luther felt adrift all over again. He had nothing left but his family.

Was this what Five felt like? With no one else to remember his adult life but himself? Having no one left but his family who might recognize who he really was? And where he belonged?

“It is good to meet you.” Pogo said with a polite nod.

“Me too,” Luther said. “I’m uh… I’m glad you’re okay.” 

Pogo looked at him in surprise. “Should I not be?”

Luther remembered, hearing Pogo’s agonized groans as the antlers pierced his chest, watching as he took his final breaths.

“It’s just that in the other Universe, you uh… you died.”

Pogo blinked, and seemed sobered by Luther’s admission. “If that is true, then perhaps I owe you my thanks.”

“Oh.” Luther said. “Uh. You probably shouldn’t. What happened was… sort of my fault.”

If he had just listened to the others, if he had talked to Vanya instead of locking her up… maybe none of it would have happened. Maybe they could have avoided the end of the world. He’d spent many nights, in Dallas, regretting the choices he’d made.

“Ah,” Pogo said, not in any position to question Luther. “Well, in any case, it would appear that I am alive because your family was able to change the events of the past. That is still meaningful, at the end of the day.”

Luther laughed softly. “I suppose that’s true.”

“I am glad that all of you grew into the heroes your father doubtlessly raised you to be.”

Their father. Luther almost wanted to laugh. His father cared so much about Luther being a hero that he sent him to the moon on a pointless errand for four years, wasted years of Luther's life he would never get back.

“Has Dad-” Luther hated that he was asking this, but he needed to know. “Reginald. Has he ever sent any of his kids to the- uh- moon?” Was there maybe some secret objective, some hidden purpose that Dad had simply never told him about?

Pogo’s expression shifted in surprise, and then confusion. For a moment, he considered Luther's question, and hope roared to life inside of Luther's chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Pogo said eventually. “I am not at liberty to disclose that kind of information.”

“Right,” Luther sighed, not hiding his disappointment. “You always did like to keep Dad’s secrets.”

“I owe Mr. Hargreeves more than I can ever repay.”

Luther huffed in laughter. “You know? That’s exactly what you said to us the last time around.”

“Then I hope you can understand my position.”

Luther couldn’t, but he also couldn’t say it. Would it be wrong if he told Pogo how much it had hurt? If he asked him not to betray the Sparrow Academy the same way he had betrayed them?

“Well, it was good to meet you, but I should head off now,” Pogo said, when Luther hesitated too long. “Goodnight, Mr. Luther. Or perhaps I should say good morning?”

“Goodnight, Pogo,” Luther said quietly. Maybe it would be a conversation for a different night.

“I hope your brother recovers soon.”

“Thank you,” Luther said. He didn’t think the way Five looked on that bed, the way he felt, almost weightless as he bled out in his arms, was going to leave his head anytime soon. “Me too.”

Pogo nodded at him, and started to walk away. 

Luther stood unmoving, and stared at his retreating back.

For over ten years, it had just been Luther, Pogo, Grace, and Reginald. He had told himself it was enough, but the truth was, he had been miserably lonely, even before he had been sent into space. In his darkest moments he had wished desperately for his family to come home again, he had wished for Allison, for Five, for Diego and Klaus and Vanya. If they just came home, he could forgive them for running away. They could be a family again.

And now he had his family again, he had gotten what he wanted. Ben was alive, all of them were together, they were a team again. He just never knew what it would cost him in return. Now, Luther understood what Allison had meant, that day when she told him why she wouldn’t use her powers anymore. 

_I got what I wanted, and I couldn’t take it back_.

“Hey, Pogo?” Luther said.

Pogo paused, and turned back toward him. “Yes, Luther?”

“Can you tell me something? Just one thing?” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so small.

Concern settled across Pogo’s face. “If I can.”

“Have they… The Sparrow Academy...” Luther took a deep breath. He could say it. He just had to say it. “Have they ever… lost anyone?” 

_Despite years of training and weeks of preparation, you allowed Number Six to die._

Luther’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared hopefully at Pogo. There had been seven, in the Umbrella Academy. Yet earlier in the parlor Luther had only seen six, and some sort of glowing green cube.

Pogo’s expression softened. “No. They haven’t. All of the family are here.”

Pogo words, strangely, felt like absolution. Luther felt lighter, freer, like a weight he hadn’t even known he was carrying had been lifted from his shoulders. He nodded his thanks at Pogo, unable to help the smile that came to his lips. 

Luther may have lost the witnesses of his adult life. But what they’d fixed in the process was much more important than the memories he’d left behind. Grace was alive. Pogo was alive. Ben was alive. And this time around, his family hadn’t let him nor any of their own siblings down. They had stayed together, they had kept each other alive, done all the right things that Luther hadn’t known how to do when he was Number One. And that was good, that was wonderful, it was more than what Luther could ever hope for.

There had been moments, as Luther sat there, staring at Five as the machines kept him alive, that he had been terrified. He had been terrified that he had let Five down too, just like he had failed Ben, all those years ago. Ben had died on his watch. They had barely gotten to Allison in time to save her. Then Five had almost died, and none of them even understood what happened. 

But it was only almost. Five was still alive, and that’s what mattered. Five was still alive and he would get better. They’d stopped the apocalypse, they’d come back to a better timeline, a better world where no one had died, and the family was together again.

Watching Pogo leave, Luther thought that maybe, everything might really be okay this time.

  
  


-

  
  


Ben wasn’t sure what to make of the new arrivals.

Their father’s perfunctory explanation had given them more questions than answers. Time travellers? Alternate timelines? His family had gone through some monumentally weird shit over the years, but this might actually take the cake. Trust their Dad to whip out a surprise second Academy of heroes and expect everyone to just accept it and move on.

The house was big enough for them all to avoid each other, and the Umbrella Academy clearly knew it well. But Ben and his siblings were nothing if not resourceful. As the days passed, with enough awkward encounters and eavesdropped conversations, and a small side of research, they managed to piece together information that their mysterious guests were unwilling to share.

Allison had been the easiest of the lot, once they remembered why her face was so familiar. She was using the phone every night, talking to her daughter, a little girl named Claire.

Diego was the most confrontational of the lot, and had an uncomfortable fetish for knives. He had a way of asking questions that had them suspecting he may have some sort of law enforcement background. But they were very familiar with the local police, and had most definitely never seen him before.

Vanya was a violinist, though they mostly figured that out by the fact that sometime on the second day, in between them leaving and coming back from a mission, she had acquired an instrument and was playing it beautifully in the courtyard. Ben had sat beside a window and listened until she went inside again, and then found himself wishing she would come back and keep playing.

Klaus they had yet to figure out, though they’d caught him talking at nothing but thin air a few times, which was weird, to say the least. Maybe he had some sort of astral projection powers, or could see things that weren’t there. Considering Ben’s own powers tapped into an alternate plane, he thought it wasn’t too much of a stretch. 

Luther seemed to be the most boring of the lot, and mostly spent his time reading and exercising. He hardly went out and was almost always with one of his siblings. At a glance Ben had assumed that he had some sort of super strength, if only because of his deformed physique. And his suspicions were confirmed just a day later, when Luther directly confessed to his sisters that it was indeed his power.

Then, there was Five, the youngest, who had collapsed from injuries moments after they’d all arrived. Every time Ben passed by the infirmary, there was someone there watching over him, maybe even guarding him from Ben and his siblings. The others clearly treated Five like a brother, even if it made no sense for him to share the same birthday - he looked about fifteen years too young for that to be possible. 

And the strangest of all was the few times Ben crossed paths with any of them, because every single one would stare at him like he was some sort of ghost. And whenever they exchanged words with Ben, they were always oddly nervous or weirdly terrified. Ben’s best guess was that they must have known the other version of him, though in what way, he couldn’t determine. 

Pogo refused to be forthcoming, and Grace didn’t know anything. Both of them told them that they should be patient, and to listen to their Dad. And in between training and missions, none of them had the time to properly get to the bottom of it all.

So the mysteries remained unsolved, as all of them were forced to share their house with a group of six strangers.

And just like that, days passed.

  
  


-

  
  


Klaus had spent more time avoiding the infirmary than his siblings probably would have liked. But the thing was, he already knew Five was alive, and really, that was good enough. It wasn’t like sitting around staring at him was going to help him recover any faster. Five would get better whenever he got better, and then he’d be back to being his intense and insensitive self again. And as a bonus, Five would probably be harassing the rest of them in no time once he latched onto the mysteries surrounding the changed timeline, now that there was nothing left to feed his apocalypse addiction anymore.

It was just that Klaus’ was recently sober again, despite having gained a newfound sugar addiction which was probably just as bad for him. Vanya’s mind-blowingly delicious hot chocolate had set off something in Klaus that night, and he was reminded of how one of his old rehab counselors had told him that sugar also released the happy chemicals in the brain. And Klaus needed a bit of that lately, what with their entire lives having been rewritten, sharing a roof with a bunch of people who might be planning to kill them in their sleep, and all of his siblings moping around like someone had killed the family dog.

Or almost killed the long-lost brother, in this case.

And the thing was just, with Klaus’ newly regained sobriety, had also come the recognition that Five most definitely hadn’t been exaggerating about the number of people he’d killed over the years.

Before now, Klaus had never spent enough time sober and stationary around Five long enough to really notice his entourage. But ever since Five became immobile on an infirmary bed and everyone in the family was expected to take turns sitting with him or something, Klaus couldn’t help but notice the way the room would get just a little bit crowded if he stuck around for too long.

Yet here he was anyway, trying to get to the bottom of the whole ‘ _how did Five almost die’_ mystery. Because one thing Klaus knew was that ghosts could notice things that regular people didn’t, and the ones tied to their own murderers often had a very unique perspective on their killer’s lives. Maybe one of them would have answers.

Look at him, using his powers for good, Pops would be so proud if he remembered who Klaus even was. Ben too, if he was still around, which he wasn’t, and Klaus was going to stop thinking about that fact right... now.

Klaus stood in the centre of the room, ignoring the unconscious thirteen year old on the bed behind him, and studied its undead occupants. In the far corner was a sad looking Indian guy with a bullet hole in his head. By the desk was an old white dude in a priest outfit who looked like he’d been stabbed through-and-through with a broadsword. And then next to the cabinets there was a very severe looking black lady in a blue-grey suit and skirt who’d had her throat slit. Grace was sitting on a chair next to Five, humming as she worked on some embroidery, but that was ignorable since she was a robot. 

Considering his options, Klaus decided to go with the severe looking black lady. She seemed the most likely to know what was going on.

“Hi! Excuse me,” Klaus said, plastering on a big friendly smile as she stepped near her. “Hi, my name is Klaus, what’s your name?”

Grace glanced up at him, saw that he was talking to thin air, and then went back to her embroidery again, seemingly taking it all in stride - which really raised a lot of questions as to what type of powers the Sparrow Academy had. The lady, on the other hand, ignored Klaus until he stuck out an arm and waved it in front of her face. Then, she turned to stare at him, her face twitching with surprise.

“Yes! I can see you!” Klaus said, grinning widely. “And I can see that you may have been killed by this… small teenage boy, over here.” He gestured at said small teenage boy with barely a glance. It was a good thing Five was not awake to hear him say these words.

“Of course,” the woman said, looking him up and down. “You must be Number Four, the Séance.”

It was Klaus’ turn to blink in surprise. “Uh… okay. This is a first.”

“Your family _is_ rather famous,” the woman said, studying him with the same curious intensity that reminded Klaus too much of Reginald. “I find it hard to believe that no one has ever recognized you before.”

“Well, not everyone I meet was alive in the last twenty years.” Klaus said with a shrug. “Look, I… wanted to ask you a few things, about Five.”

“I doubt I have anything to tell you,” the lady said, going back to watching Five with a cold, disinterested gaze.

Alive in the last twenty years, fancy suit… A possibility floated into Klaus’ mind. “Do you think you could… tell me how you died?”

“He slit my throat with an axe.” The woman said, sounding almost bored.

“An axe?” Who slit throats with axes? Wouldn’t a knife be much easier for that kind of thing? Klaus struggled to come up with an explanation. “Right, okay. I’m just going to come out and ask this. Were you part of the Board of Directors? And if so, did one of you shoot my brother?”

The woman turned toward him, and Klaus had trouble telling if she was annoyed or impressed, or maybe both? 

“No,” was the only answer he got before the woman went back to staring at Five.

“No you weren’t on the Board? Or no, none of you shot Five?”

Behind Grace, there was now some dude who looked like a stock standard mercenary grunt, but with a very unfortunate stabbed-eye situation. 

“I don’t see why the answer’s so important, it’s not like you can change things,” the woman said. “He’ll be joining us soon enough.”

Confused, it was only then that Klaus looked at Five properly for the first time since entering the room. On the bed, Five was flushed, feverish, he was trembling, and appeared much worse than he had the last time Klaus had been here. Klaus’ heart rapidly started to sink.

“Wait, what’s wrong with him?” Klaus said, moving to Five’s side. Gingerly, he reached for Five’s hand, and found it icy cold to the touch. With his other hand, Klaus reached for Five’s forehead, and drew a sharp breath when he felt the waves of heat rolling off of his brother. This wasn’t good, this was really really bad.

“I am afraid Mr. Five has developed pneumonia as a result of his injuries.” Grace said, looking up at Klaus with a soft, sad smile. “It is an unfortunately common complication from penetrating chest trauma. We have started him on a course of antibiotics to help him with the infection.”

“Shit,” Klaus whispered, eyes widening as he looked down at Five again. Five was supposed to get _better_ , not worse. “When did this happen?” Why didn’t anyone tell him?

“I received the results of his blood test approximately nineteen hours ago.”

“Does everyone else know?”

“That is possible. Miss Vanya, Miss Allison, and Mr Luther have all been through since then.”

Klaus looked up at Grace, not sure if the hurt that stabbed through him came from rejection or helplessness. What was he supposed to do? What _could_ he do? Nothing. The ghost-lady was right, finding out what happened wasn’t going to change anything. Five could still die.

Whatever Grace saw on his face, it made her expression soften, and she reached out to place a hand on his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t worry, Mr Klaus, I am sure he will recover.”

Klaus wasn’t, but he also didn’t want to speak the thought aloud. Just in case it made it come true somehow.

  
  


-

  
  


Five’s condition didn’t improve. 

But it didn’t get worse, either.

Vanya spent most of her time in the infirmary, monitoring Five’s condition. She couldn’t help but feel like what happened must have also been her fault somehow. Both apocalypses had happened because she lost control, and then what happened with Harlan had only happened because of her. Five had been fighting so hard, through so much, to try and stop it both times, to try and get them home. His injuries must have come from that, and she’d had no idea he was even hurt until the moment he collapsed. 

Vanya couldn’t stop thinking that there must have been something she could have done differently. If she had asked more questions, paid more attention, then maybe she could have prevented this somehow.

Yet right now, all she could do was be here, and watch over her brother. Five was fitful, restless, and as the days dragged on, so did his fever. Whenever it looked like it was starting to come down, it would inch back up again. And Grace still hadn’t taken the ventilator out. Everyone was on edge, terrified every time they went to sleep that when they woke up, they would have lost another brother for good.

The feeling was familiar to Vanya, this state of existence between fear and hope. When she was thirteen, she had spent months waiting for Five to come home. And back then, she had been as terrified that Five would never come back as she was desperate to see him again. And now, she was going through similar motions, but this time Five had come home, and they were all waiting for him to get better again.

Vanya was getting used to this, the hiss of the ventilator, the rustle of turning pages, and the small, distressed sounds that Five would make sometimes. She sat in her usual chair at Five’s bedside, glancing at her brother between paragraphs of her book. Five was doing a little better today than the day previous, and didn’t look quite so pale, though his face had taken on a gaunt edge it didn't have before. His injuries and illness had taken its toll on his body, and it wasn’t done with him yet.

For a moment, Vanya watched Five, before she lowered her gaze back to the novel in her hand. It was one of the classics she had always meant to read but had never found time for, though now she was having a hard time paying attention to the words on the page. The author had a way of using the most words possible to describe the least amount of action, and Vanya was starting to lose interest in ever finishing it.

There was a zap, and a bright flash of blue flooded the room. Vanya jumped up from her chair, heart racing, and whirled around toward the sound. Her book clattered to the floor.

In front of her, Lila stood in the middle of the room, a familiar briefcase in hand.

“Ah, Vanya,” Lila said, eyes bright as she offered her a friendly smile. “How are you doing? Is Five dead yet?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another massive thanks to every single commenter because you are the light of my lockdown existence rn. I think I've read each comment like six times because of the happy feels. I am bad with replies but please assume that I am floating love hearts in your direction if you have left me a comment.
> 
> Also, heads up for some Diego/Lila in this chapter.

“Look, we can’t keep sitting around like this!” Diego said, eyes furious. “Something happened to Five for him to get those injuries and we need to figure out what it is. He barely survived it this time. What if it happens again? What if it happens to another one of us?”

Allison, Luther, and Diego stood together in the parlor, taking advantage of a brief reprieve to make use of the parts of the house they usually avoided. The Sparrow Academy had left for a mission barely fifteen minutes ago, and the mostly empty house meant that for once, they could talk freely with each other about more sensitive things.

Allison, however, found herself wishing that the Sparrow Academy had stayed home, because she was getting really tired of the sound of Diego’s voice.

“You said it yourself.” Allison said, desperately clinging to the last of her patience. “You’ve looked into the Sparrow Academy and none of them have the power to do something like this.”

“I _know_ , which is why we need to start talking to other people,” Diego said. “Look, I have contacts in the Commission, I can talk to them. They have access to all of time and space. And the Infinite Switchboard could probably straight up show me how Five got injured. We could get to the bottom of this, if _Luther_ would just stop _hiding_ the damn briefcase-”

“I told you! We can’t keep provoking the Commission!” Luther exploded. “Your friend may have been _acting chairperson_ but we have no idea who’s calling the shots right now. The last few times we’ve dealt with them, they’ve tried to _kill us. And_ _Five_ is in the infirmary right now, _fighting for his life_. He can barely even breathe on his own. And if you screw things up, and they decide to send assassins after us again, none of us can protect him!”

“Hey guys?”

“That’s not going to happen!” Diego was shouting now. “We have a chance here to-”

“Uh, guys?” Vanya’s voice, louder this time, cut through the sound of Diego’s ranting. 

All three of them turned in unison, still glaring as Vanya stood stiffly at the entryway. She shrank back slightly under the force of their combined fury, eyes wide and vaguely terrified. 

Worry instantly sparked inside of Allison at the sight.

“Vanya?” Allison said, stepping forward. “What is it?”

“Vanya, look, help me convince them,” Diego started to speak. “We-”

“Diego, _I’ve told you_ , you’re not getting the damn briefcase!” Luther said.

Vanya opened her mouth, then closed it again, her gaze darting uncertainly between Diego and Luther.

“Would the two of you _shut up_?” Allison cried, throwing out her hand. “Let her talk!”

Luther and Diego’s mouth slammed shut, and they stared in shock at Allison for a moment, before they both turned toward Vanya with confused faces.

“Uh…” Vanya looked among the three of them for a moment, until she seemed to realize that they really were going to listen to her. Then, her gaze darted to her right, toward something out of sight behind the wall, and back again, skittish. “Look, I was in the infirmary, sitting with Five, and...”

Diego frowned when Vanya hesitated. “And what?”

“Is everything okay?” said Luther.

Vanya took a deep breath. “Look, just, don’t freak out, alright?”

Lila stepped out, smiling, from behind the wall, and walked up beside Vanya. 

Allison froze, remembering the words that Luther had just said, about the Commission sending its assassins again. Of course she’d find them, she must have known exactly where they’d go, what time they’d arrive at. _Not this again_. 

“Hey guys!” Lila lifted her arms, hefting the heavy briefcase in her hand. “Did you miss me?”

She was dressed in all black, her eyes ringed with kohl just like Allison remembered. But unlike the last time Allison had seen her, this time she was clean, uninjured, and her clothes looked slightly different too. But more than that, the dark, simmering edge that Allison had seen in her before didn’t seem to be there anymore, and Allison didn’t know what to make of it.

“Lila?” Diego breathed, lighting up with joy.

“What do you want?” Allison spat, readying herself for a fight. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to let Lila hurt Five.

“What is she doing here?” Luther said to Vanya, stalking forward a few steps.

“Alright, calm down, I’m not here to kill anyone.” Lila said, putting down her briefcase before turning to Diego and grinning. “Hey babe.”

“Hey,” Diego grinned back, a dumb, lovestruck expression on his face.

Allison sighed internally, her heart sinking when she realized that Diego was not going to take the threat seriously. His words may have looked like they were looking last time, but there was no telling what Lila’s intentions were right now, or if she had even believed anything Diego had told her. The last time they’d seen her, she had tried to kill them, and looked about ready to stab Diego even as he tried to talk her onto their side. 

The Lila in front of them now was so oddly friendly it was disconcerting. What changed?

“Okay, look,” Lila said, pulling her gaze away from Diego, she turned toward the rest of them. “I’m not the same person you saw like, what, a few days ago?” 

What was that supposed to mean? That she was from the future?

“I’ve had a bit of time to, you know, grow. Find myself. All that nonsense. Anyway, the point is. I’m fine now.” Lila continued. “You can _totally_ trust me. We’re all buddies in the _when_ that I come from. It’s actually pretty great.”

She beamed at the rest of them. 

“I knew it!” Diego said, punching the air as he turned to the rest of them with a grin. “I told you guys she’d join our side.”

How was it, that Allison’s brother was _so dumb_? Allison seriously considered throttling Diego in that moment. Lila could be lying through her teeth. They had no reason to believe her, no matter how nice it would be to take her at her word.

“Besides,” Lila continued, her teeth bared for just a second too long before she spoke again. “I’m actually here to help.”

“Help how, exactly?” Allison said, not buying her story for an instant.

“Well, Five’s laid up right now, right? He said he wants to be up and about for the shit that’s coming next. So I’m doing him a favor…” Lila trailed off, before she tilted her head and shrugged with the most innocent of smiles. “In exchange for a favor.”

Luther took another step forward, his face twisting with suspicion. “What makes you think we’d believe anything you say? Last time we saw you you were trying to kill us.”

“Look, Luther, just hear her out,” Vanya said, reaching an arm out to calm him.

“Oh, come on,” Lila scowled. “You totally saw how moved I was by Diego’s speech! And what about the time I helped Diego here get out of a mental institution? And then saved his life when he got stabbed? I helped Five when he-”

“Wait, what?” Vanya said, turning toward Diego in surprise. “Stabbed?”

“Diego?” Allison stared at Diego in alarm. When had _that_ happened?

Diego stared back at them like a deer in the headlights, and then shrugged. “I lived.”

“Didn’t we just have this conversation the other day?” Allison said, exasperated beyond belief. “What is it with you _men_ and hiding injuries?”

“Pretty sure _this_ is why,” Diego said, making a vague gesture at the rest of them. “Anyway, I’m _fine_.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what Five thought as well until he collapsed on us, twice,” Allison said. How the hell was she supposed to help any of her brothers when none of them ever thought to help themselves?

“Actually, that does remind me.” Lila said, looking Diego up and down with a frown. She did her best to appear judging despite how clearly besotted she was. “ _Are you_ feeling alright? You look weirder than I remember.”

“I’m pretty sure you mean hotter,” Diego grinned dumbly at her and sidestepped the question. “I am the hot one, after all.”

Lila winced, hissing, and regarded Diego with a face of sympathy. “I’m not so sure about that. I mean, have you seen Five as an adult?”

Diego’s eyes widened into saucers, and for a moment, Allison feared for their unconscious brother’s life. She briefly remembered Klaus’ musings that day in the hair salon. _Wouldn’t it be weird if Five grew up all hot?_

_Ergh, why?_

Staring at Diego, Lila squawked with laughter, and doubled over laughing, pointing at him. “Hah! You should have seen your face!”

Diego stared at her for a shocked moment, then rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms with a huff. “Are you kidding me?” 

“Oh shit, I was right?” Klaus said, an uncomfortable amount of glee in his voice as he alerted everyone to his presence. He was leaning against the entryway behind Vanya in what Allison _hoped_ wasn’t a dress that belonged to one of the Sparrow Academy, a bag of marshmallows in hand.

“Christ,” Vanya jumped, and turned around. “Where did you even come from?”

“The kitchen, I followed the sound of Diego’s breaking heart,” Klaus turned toward Diego with a woeful gaze, and stuffed another marshmallow into his mouth. 

Diego gave him the finger, and Lila snorted with laughter.

“I mean, he _is_ pretty hot at twenty-eight,” Lila said out of the corner of her mouth. “But, look, if I’m being honest, the hottest sibling among all of you is clearly-” She jerked her head toward Allison, and gave Diego a meaningful look.

Allison’s brows shot up. Was Lila…? She almost felt like she should be bothered by this, but honestly, it was pretty flattering. She glanced around at her siblings, took in their gaping faces, and shrugged. “Well, yeah? Obviously.”

Lila winked at her.

“Hey, I’m right here!” Diego said.

At the exact same moment, Luther spoke. “Okay, this is ridiculous, why are you really here, Lila? Because if you’re here to kill Five again, you’re going to have to go through us first.”

Lila turned toward him with a growing look of amusement. “I’m not here to kill anybody. Like I said, I’m here to help.”

“And how exactly do you think you can help?” said Luther.

“By healing Five, duh.”

Luther frowned. “Your power is to mirror others, none of us can heal.”

Lila stared at him with the same expression that Five wore when he was communicating without actually saying ‘I can’t believe you’re really that dumb’. 

Staring at her, a possibility suddenly struck Allison.

“Besides the lot of you, there are _six_ _more_ super powered individuals living in this very house,” Lila said, like she was speaking to a group of very stupid children.

_Of course._ Allison’s eyes widened. 

“Wait, are you saying one of them can heal?” Luther said.

“Guys, you’ve been here like a week,” Lila said, “you really haven’t sussed out the _Sparrow Academy_ yet?”

Allison felt sheepish then. They’d had other priorities, like figuring out the changes to the timeline, digging into their newly rewritten pasts, and keeping an eye on Five. 

“We’ve... sort of been avoiding them.” Allison admitted. God, She’d never even thought that the Sparrow Academy might have been able to help. They should have just talked to them from the start.

“Do you know how weird it is, to come home and find you, your family, as well as everything you own, have been replaced by an almost entirely different set of people?” Luther added. “I’m honestly still trying not to think about it.”

“At least Ben’s alive,” Klaus offered. 

“I’m not complaining, Klaus,” Luther said. “And look, if one of them can heal, there’s nothing stopping us from just asking for their help.”

“Oh, please, you think if they were going to help you they wouldn’t have done it already?” Lila said. “Face it, big boy, they don’t know you, and they have no reason to trust you.”

“And what makes you think they’d trust _you_?” said Luther.

“Come on, have you already forgotten?” Lila said with a frown. “They don’t _need_ to trust me. It’s not like we were lovey dovey when I threw you through a wall.”

Luther opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again.

Allison sighed. “I could rumor them.” She raised an eyebrow at Lila in a challenge.

“I’m sure that would go over well,” Lila replied without missing a beat. “The rest of the Sparrow Academy would probably be perfectly okay with it if you mind-controlled one of them.”

Allison shrugged. It wasn’t a perfect plan, she could give her that.

“So what do you actually want?” Klaus mumbled around a mouth full of marshmallows. “You said Five is doing you a favor. So what’s the favor?”

“You,” Lila said, levelling a look at Klaus. 

Klaus stared at her, and then checked behind himself, before pointing quizzically at his own chest.

“Let’s just say I have a few questions for dear old Mum, and I need to borrow your power for a little while.” She smiled sweetly at Klaus. “What do you say? Help a gal out?”

“Uh…” Klaus stared at her, uncertain. “Do I actually need to say yes? Don’t you just… copy powers?”

“I’m trying to be polite here, jeez,” Lila sighed. “And I wouldn’t mind having the backup. It’d probably make all of you feel better, right? If you’re sure I’m not plotting against you in secret? It’s just going to be sappy shit, anyway. Mum, did you ever love me? How many children did you orphan then kidnap? That sort of stuff.”

“Do we trust her?” Klaus said.

“No,” Luther said at the same time that Diego said, “Yes.”

“Look, I came all this way.” Lila whined, then turned toward Klaus. “You want your brother up and about again, don’t you? I mean, Five said he’ll owe you one?”

“I don’t trust this,” Allison said. None of this made sense, why would Five send Lila back from the future? What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait for him to recover normally?

Vanya sighed. “Guys, I think we should give her a chance.” 

Allison’s heart sank. She and Luther were a firm no, while Diego and Vanya were clear yeses. That only left...

“Klaus?” Diego said, turning toward their brother.

“Oh shit, am I the tie breaker?” Klaus laughed, a giddy look on his face. “Again?”

“Klaus-” Luther said.

“Ah-ha!” Klaus pointed an accusatory finger at Allison. “And you can’t overrule me this time because Five can’t vote!”

Allison sighed. Klaus was right. Dammit.

“Klaus, this isn’t a game, alright?” Luther said, stepping toward him. “This is Five’s life we’re talking about here. She could be here to kill him!”

“I mean… maybe?” Klaus shrugged. “But you’re also sort of just… assuming that he’s gonna get better, when, let’s face it, we don’t know that for sure.”

“What are you saying?” Allison’s blood ran cold. The way Klaus talked, it was like he knew something they didn’t.

“I’m saying that if we don’t let her help, there’s also the chance that Five would, I dunno, die?” Klaus said, his face uncharacteristically serious. “Maybe that’s why Five sent her back in time. Let’s face it, his temperature hasn’t fallen below a hundred for like what, three days now? We’re talking about a thirteen year old boy who’s been shot multiple times, and has a serious infection on top of that. We don’t know if he’s actually going to bounce back.”

The room was silent, and even Lila seemed sobered, if thoughtful, at Klaus’ words.

Allison hadn’t wanted to consider the possibility. None of them had wanted to think about it. It was easy to believe Five was going to recover because it’s what they all wanted, needed to happen. Klaus was right, they didn’t know if Five was going to get better. Not for sure. But the possibility he might be worse off than they were all willing to acknowledge didn’t mean that they had to give up on him. Five had fought through and survived so much. His injuries couldn’t take him out now, not when they’d only just got him back.

Looking around at her siblings, she saw the same worry and fear in each of their eyes.

“I- That’s not going to happen,” Allison said, hating the uncertainty in her voice. “And if he gets worse, we could just talk to whoever it is who has the healing powers. I will rumor them if I have to. It doesn’t mean we need her.”

“But that doesn’t mean we _don’t_ need her,” Diego said. “You guys literally just gave me a whole speech about not provoking a group of people who can probably kill us. What if _you_ fuck it up, Allison? What if you piss off our Dad and the entire Sparrow Academy and they decide we’re more trouble than we’re worth? Good luck protecting Five from six people with _fucking superpowers_.”

“Even if they kick us out it doesn’t mean they’re going to hu-” Luther started to speak.

“Guys.” Vanya said. “Guys!”

All of them paused, and turned toward Vanya.

“It’s Klaus’s decision,” Vanya said, staring at them seriously. Then, she looked over at their brother. “Klaus?”

For a moment, Klaus was silent, deep in thought. Allison stared at him, and prayed that he'd see things her way.

Then, Klaus took a deep breath, and shrugged. “You know what? Why not? Let’s give her a chance. Let her do her thing.”

Allison bit back a curse as frustration surged forward.

“Wait wait wait wait,” Luther said, holding out a hand. “You’re just going to trust her? Why should we believe her? The last time we saw her she was trying to _kill Five_. She almost killed Allison!”

“Aw…” Lila said, looking at Luther with a sickly sweet smile. “Aren’t you sweet. You really care about them!”

“He’s right,” Allison said to Lila. “No matter what Klaus or Diego says, we have no reason to trust you, for all we know, you’re the one who shot Five.” She turned toward Vanya. “Vanya, I’m surprised you’re on her side.”

“I just… I think she’s telling the truth,” Vanya said. “She was right there in the infirmary with Five, I was the only one there. She never tried to hurt him.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s not planning to!” Luther said.

“Well... I didn’t _shoot_ him.” Lila said. “And you know you could... ask him about it? If he was awake?”

“Do you know who hurt him?” Vanya said.

Lila pressed her lips together in a moue. “I have an idea of what happened, but it’s not really a story for me to tell.”

“Ah shit,” Klaus said. “That means it’s really bad.”

“Look, I’m not going to hurt him. I promise. Would it help if I said I was sorry?” Lila said, with an expression that said she actually didn’t care what they thought in the slightest. “We could just all forgive, forget, move along?”

“It’s fine,” Diego said suddenly, staring at Lila with shining eyes. “I know you. We trust you.”

“Diego, would you stop thinking with your dick for-” Allison started to speak.

“I _trust_ her,” Diego said through gritted teeth. “And if any of you have a problem, you can take it up with me. She could have fought us in that barn, but she didn’t. She could have attacked Five when she landed, but she _didn’t_. All five of us have voted and we’ve made a decision. She’s staying, and we’re letting her help.”

Allison still didn’t trust Lila in the slightest, but it was also clear that if she fought the others any more on this, there would be knives thrown in the house. 

And _that_ most definitely would count as a _nuisance_ when Reginald found out. God, it was like they were kids again.

She sighed, and didn’t say anything more.

For a long time, there was silence.

“Well, I guess that’s that.” Lila said, her lips curling into a wide smile.

  
  
  


-

  
  


“This is a bad idea,” Luther said, as the four of them sat outside one of the training rooms, waiting for Klaus and Lila to finish their séance.

“Well, good or bad, it’s happening,” Diego said, scowling as he forcefully sharpened one of his knives on a small whetstone. He glanced at Lila’s bracelet, which had been a reassuring weight around his wrist since 1963.

Diego had tried to not think about Lila since they arrived back, which meant he was thinking about her every free moment when he wasn’t trying to figure out the Sparrow Academy or worrying about Five. He had been so close to persuading her that evening, in the barn, and over the past week he’d returned to that moment again and again in his mind, wondering what Lila would have said if the Handler hadn’t walked in with that gun.

It had been a good thing that Five had been there to disarm her, because Diego had never heard her coming.

If he’d just had a few more seconds, Diego thought, then it would have all been different. He had watched the way Lila’s resolve was crumbling, seen the longing in her eyes when he had offered her a _family_. And because he had been right there, front and centre to witness the way her walls had crumbled, Diego knew he could trust what Lila had told them in the parlor. 

Diego knew Lila. He could see the truth of her relationship with her mother no matter how Lila had tried to deny it, because he knew the patterns. He’d survived Reginald’s version of fatherhood. The Handler may have hidden her intentions behind sweet, honeyed words, but Diego could recognize the cold calculation in her eyes anywhere. She didn’t love her daughter, just like Reginald had never loved any of his own children. To him, they had been unruly students at most, a necessary evil to be tolerated in pursuit of his own goals.

Diego knew he had been right. The thought stayed on his mind as he stared at the edge of his knife, and dragged it along the whetstone again and again. And he knew that whatever words were said between Lila and her mother, it would prove it.

“Can you please stop doing that?” Allison said from beside him, an annoyed expression on her face.

“Make me,” Diego said, and dragged his blade along the stone one more time.

There was a long-suffering sigh from his sister.

  
  


-

  
  


“Well, that somehow simultaneously went _both_ better and worse than I expected,” said Lila, looking a bit shaken as the Handler’s ghost vanished in a swirl of blue light.

The conversation hadn’t been easy, and Klaus had probably offered a few too many comments than strictly necessary. But the deed was done and Lila had gotten what she wanted.

Klaus knew that this was the point that he should probably start asking questions about everything he’d just heard, because some of Lila’s questions had really made zero sense and Klaus had this burning need for context. But, the thing was, Lila had also just done an incredibly interesting thing, which was - she banished the Handler’s ghost. She made her mother go away.

As they stood in the training room, Klaus couldn't stop staring at Lila, stuck somewhere between awe and bewilderment.

“How… did you do that?” Klaus said.

Lila turned toward him. “What do you mean?”

“You-” Klaus imitated a shoo-ing movement. “You made her disappear!”

“Yeah, I was sick of her, so I sent her back.”

“How?” Klaus had needed to be able to do that for over thirty years. Had this always been something he was capable of? 

“What do you mean how? This is your power!”

“I know that! Show me how you did that!” Klaus zoomed toward Lila, who automatically backed away from him.

“Wait, what?" Lila said. "You’ve had this power for all your life and you didn’t know you could banish ghosts?”

“I can’t! Or I- I couldn’t. I don’t know how all of this works.” Klaus could hear his Dad’s words all over again. _You only scratched the surface of what you’re truly capable of_. 

Klaus really hated it when Reginald was right.

“Huh.” Lila said, eyes narrowing. “Well when I copy a power I just know how to use it. It’s like… prepackaged.”

“What else can you do with my power?”

“No.”

Klaus squawked in outrage. “What do you mean _no_?”

“Like I said, no. You’ll figure out your powers when you figure them out, I’m not going to butterfly this timeline any more than I have to.”

“Oh, come on!” Klaus said, groaning. “Oh! I know. What if I take you to Five? He’s the one who killed your mom and pops, right? I’ll help you out again if you help me. You could talk to your _real parents_.” Klaus dragged out the words, making them sound super enticing.

“Good try, but I’ve already done that,” Lila said with a smirk. “From the future, remember? Also, I have your power right now, if I wanted to talk to them I could just do it myself.”

“Shit.” Klaus sighed in frustration. Why did she have to be right?

“You know, I’m surprised.” Lila’s gaze was considering. “I thought you’d be like everyone else, all claws out to protect little ol’ Five from me.”

“I love him, but I also wouldn’t hesitate to trade him for a full night’s sleep,” Klaus said without missing a beat. “Besides, if you really wanted to kill him you could have already done it. It’s not like Vanya’s actually trained with her powers or anything. If she tried to fight you in the infirmary she’d probably have killed Five in the process anyway. You don’t need to jump through all of these hoops proving yourself to my family and whatnot.”

Lila looked vaguely affronted by his suggestion. “But what if I wanted to kill him _after_ I got to talk to my mum, and made out with Diego?”

“Well if we’re friends and stuff in the future, you could just borrow my powers and talk to her whenever, and do whatever the hell you want to Diego too, I guess.” Klaus said, waving an arm. “Like I said, no hoop jumping necessary.”

“Then maybe we’re not actually friends,” Lila said insistently, looking delighted by the way Klaus indulged her. “Or, oh, you’re actually dead, and there’s no one I can borrow from.”

Klaus gave her a giant fake-smile. Guess the inability-to-die thing really had nothing to do with his powers. When and _how_ did God themselves develop a personal vendetta against him?

“Or you’re _lying,_ ” Klaus said, “and you’re really just here to help us.”

Even if they weren’t friendly in the future, if Lila needed his power, she could have jumped to literally any point in time to borrow it. It wasn’t like Klaus was going to immediately notice a time-travelling assassin in the corner of a bar or grocery store. There was no reason for Lila to reveal herself to Vanya, or show up at the one moment in time that all of Klaus’ siblings were in protective mama and papa bear mode, ready to tear any intruder apart.

Lila hummed, oddly annoyed by Klaus’ refusal to distrust her. “You’re smarter than you act.”

“I’ll admit, I do have layers.” Klaus shrugged, regret in his voice. “Also it’s a lot easier to think when the only thing I’m buzzing with right now is sugar, so _that_ sucks. Like if I had to look for an ulterior motive it might have something to do with how long your Mum’s been a ghost? Maybe in your future she’s just extra mean or something. Anyway, I don’t want to think about this anymore. Can you _please_ just _tell me how to banish ghosts?_ ”

“Hah,” Lila said, neither confirming nor denying Klaus’ wild speculation, and then jabbed a finger at him. “No.”

Then, she went to the door and pulled it open.

Klaus groaned, and followed her outside. Why couldn’t anything in his life ever be _easy_?

  
  


-

  
  


Everyone shot to their feet the moment the door opened again, and both Lila and Klaus stepped out, one after the other.

“Alright, well that was…” Lila started to speak, and then trailed off with a thoughtful expression. “Well, it’s time for me to hold up my end of the bargain. You guys sit tight, I’m going to go make some new friends. See you all in the infirmary in like, fifteen, yeah?”

Before anyone could say anything, she turned and started walking deeper into the house with her briefcase, looking like she knew exactly where she was going. The Sparrow Academy had returned from their mission while she and Klaus were performing their séance, and chances were, whoever she was after was definitely in the building.

Diego tried not to be disappointed by the fact that Lila had barely given him a second glance. He’d find a chance to talk to her, after Five was better. Even if she refused to tell him anything there were plenty of other things they could do together.

“Shouldn’t one of us follow her to make sure she doesn’t just leave now that she’s gotten what she wanted?” Allison said as they stared after Lila.

“She’ll show up to the infirmary,” Diego jumped immediately to her defense.

Allison glanced at him. “We’re really trusting her?”

“Look, she said Five was the one who sent her here, didn’t she?” Diego turned toward his siblings. “If Five can trust her, then so can the rest of you.”

“You’re just taking her at her word for that.” Luther said, with the same impatient tone that Diego was getting sick of hearing. “We have no idea _who_ sent her, she could have some sort of personal agenda, for all we know. I’m going to follow her.”

“Guys, we’ve already had this conversation,” Vanya sighed before Luther could take a single step. She looked among them in disbelief. “We’ve voted and we’ve decided, haven’t we? We should go meet her at the infirmary.”

“Vanya’s right,” Diego said, glad at least one of them had sense. “Klaus, tell me what happened in there.”

“Ergh, do I have to?” Klaus moaned, starting to walk off toward the infirmary.

“Klaus!” Allison said, following after him.

“Fine, fine…”

Diego and Vanya followed, and after a moment of hesitation, so did Luther.

  
  


-

  
  


While they waited for Lila to reemerge from the house, Vanya slipped into the kitchen to get herself a quick bite to eat. Between spending time with Five and the chaos that had followed, she had missed lunch completely, and was feeling uncomfortably close to starving.

On the way to the infirmary, Klaus had described the events of the séance to all of them. At the end of it, it seemed that Lila hadn’t been lying about what she had wanted from her mother. It was a little bit reassuring, if nothing else, to have some evidence that Lila was doing exactly what she said she would.

Thinking she needed to get back to the others as soon as possible, Vanya made some toast and slathered it in peanut butter. The moment it was ready, she put the ingredients away and then took a bite of her food as she turned to leave. 

Vanya paused at the sight of Lila walking into the room.

“Hey Vanya,” Lila said, glancing at her. Going straight past her for the fridge, Lila pulled out a can of Coke without a single second of hesitation. Cracking it open, she held it to her lips and started to drink almost immediately.

“Hey.” Vanya replied, blinking as her shock wore off. Earlier, once she had been persuaded that Lila wasn’t there to hurt Five, she had taken her to the parlor immediately so everyone could talk to her. The conversation they’d had along the way was brief, and more than anything, Vanya had just been trying to keep an eye on Lila, hoping that the woman wouldn’t suddenly attack her.

Vanya hadn’t expected to get another moment alone with Lila like this, but maybe this was a good thing. Earlier, she hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise as all of her siblings talked over each other. There had been questions she’d never gotten to ask.

Lila gulped her drink, and then put the can down with a satisfied sigh.

“Can I ask you something?” Vanya said, thinking over all the things Lila had said earlier. 

“I suppose, can’t guarantee I’ll answer though,” Lila replied, turning to her curiously.

“What changed your mind?” Vanya said. 

Lila had insisted that she was on their side, that in whatever time she was from, all of them were friends. 

“I mean, the last time I saw you, you were trying to kill Five, as well as the rest of us.” Vanya continued. “What convinced you to help us? Join us? Was it… Diego? Was it what he said?”

Lila studied her for a moment, before turning and leaning against the counter, a thoughtful frown on her face. 

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell you this,” she mumbled after a moment.

Vanya watched her cautiously, waiting for her explanation.

“Well, it wasn’t Diego.” Lila said, turning toward Vanya. “I love that dumb idiot, but he is also one of the most sappy and naive people I have ever met. I mean, do you remember that speech he fed me, back in that barn?”

“Yeah, I do.” Vanya also recalled that it seemed to have been working, though it probably wasn’t a good idea to bring that up right now.

Lila heaved a sigh that sounded almost wistful. “Anyway, it wasn’t Diego. It was you.”

Vanya blinked in surprise. “Me?”

“Yeah, I mean, suddenly realizing your whole life had been a lie? That someone you loved had betrayed you? The one person you trusted more than anything was in fact using you all along?”

“Oh,” Vanya smiled a little. “I see.”

When Lila put it like that, Vanya could see the similarities in their experiences. Lila had been lied to about her parents, just like Vanya had been lied to about her powers. Lila had loved the Handler all her life, just like Vanya had loved Allison. And they had both been used, Lila by her mother, and Vanya by Leonard.

Vanya had felt so much hurt and resentment, in the aftermath, she had been so angry, and she’d felt so alone.

Thinking back to that moment in the barn, when Luthor had showed up on her doorstep, Vanya still remembered her ecstatic relief. It was hard to describe the strength of her joy, in that moment when she realized that she wasn’t alone, that she had a family, that there were people out there who cared about her. Despite all the mistakes she’d made, she had been forgiven, she was still loved. Then Five had told her that she still had a place in the world, a place she belonged no matter what.

_I don’t even know who I am._

_You’re our sister. And a member of the Umbrella Academy._

Five’s words came back to her, then. She had been so angry, in that moment, knowing she had caused the apocalypse, knowing Five had kept it from her because he was _scared_ of her power. 

But all of that had never changed the way Five or the others had seen her.

“Five,” Vanya said, thinking of his fever, his injuries, the way he looked there on the infirmary bed. “You… won’t hurt him, right?”

Lila chuckled, a glint of amusement in her eyes as she considered Vanya. “You guys really do love each other, don’t you? Though I suppose that’s what I like about our family.”

Lila said ‘ _our’_ so naturally that Vanya felt thrown for a moment. 

“Look, Five…” Lila’s gaze grew distant, and her expression turned serious as she thought about her next words. “Let’s just say the problems between us get resolved, eventually. And then, well, once Five decides you’re family, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you, you know? Unfortunately, at that point it’s _hard_ to not like him at least a little.”

Vanya considered Lila’s words, not sure what to make of them. She had no way of knowing if any of it was true. Yet there was something in Lila's voice, in her expression, that made Vanya want to believe her. Diego and Klaus had both seen something in her, and Vanya thought that she might be seeing it too. Even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on why, Vanya’s instincts said that she could trust her. And she liked to think she was getting better at judging people, after surviving Leonard’s deception.

“Okay.” Vanya said.

“Okay?” Lila’s lips quirked with a smile.

“Yeah,” Vanya nodded. “Okay.”

  
  


-

  
  


At their request, Grace had removed the ventilator and other machines supporting Five. Now, the sound of Five’s labored breathing was too loud in the quiet room.

All of them had gathered around Five’s bed with Lila, watching as the woman prepared to use her powers. She stood over Five, and studied him curiously.

“Aw… look at him,” Lila said, frowning. “He really doesn’t look very good, does he?”

He didn’t, and now that Luther was back here again, he could see why Klaus had said what he did. Without the machine helping him, Five’s lungs sounded like they could barely take in air. While before he would move and make small sounds, like some part of him was fighting, and conscious. The Five in front of them now still and silent but for the wheezing sound of his breathing. Luther held onto each exhale, waiting for Five's next breath.

Staring at his brother’s face, Luther curled his hands into fists.

“Well, that’s alright, I can fix it,” Lila said, rolling her shoulders and bouncing on her heels as she readied herself.

Cold determination settled across Lila’s face. Luther remembered where he’d seen that look before, it was the same expression she wore when he had asked her who she was, and she had answered.

_Someone who wants to kill your brother._

Could Luther risk this? All they really had to go on was Lila’s word, and it didn’t mean anything, not really. She had lied to Diego in the mental asylum and she could be lying again now. Every reason she’d given them to trust her had been things she’d done while working for the Handler. She was counting on their desperation, on Diego’s blind trust because of his feelings for her. Vanya was a terrible judge of character. And Klaus only ever did whatever entertained him the most. Allison was the sensible one among them and she was on Luther’s side.

The first time Luther fucked up they had lost Ben, and then he’d almost lost Allison too, had failed her when he spiralled into self-destruction instead of helping his family. Was he also going to risk Five’s life on something like this? Right now? Despite every reason they had not to trust her? 

Lila lifted her arms, and held them over Five’s body. Her hands began to glow.

“Wait.” Luther grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Five.

“Really? Now?” Lila frowned, her power fizzing out as she stumbled back. “He’s going to suffocate if you don’t just let me do it.”

“Luther, would you just-” Diego started to speak.

“Diego, shut _up!_ ” Luther shouted, glaring at his brother. 

“Hey, don’t tell me to-”

“ _I heard a rumor_ , that you let Luthor talk without interrupting like an eight year old,” Allison said, turning toward Diego with a measured glare.

Diego’s eyes widened, and his body trembled as Allison’s power took effect on him. Then, he pressed his lips together, unable to speak, and glared furiously at them both.

“Just-” Luther swallowed, giving Allison a look of thanks before he turned back toward Lila. “Give me a reason to trust you. A real reason. Otherwise I can’t let you do this. I can’t risk Five’s life when everything you’ve told us could be a lie. The last time we saw you, you were trying to kill him.”

Lila stared at him for a moment, then, her expression softened. “You really care about him, huh.”

“He’s family,” Luther stated, matter of fact. “Tell us what Five told you. If what you’re saying is true, and Five really was the one who sent you here. Then he must have told you something you can tell us, something to prove to us that we can trust you.”

“Yeah, but what if I don’t want to say it?”

“Then I’m not going to let you do whatever it is you’re trying to do,” Luther said. “For all we know, you’re about to kill him.”

“Do you _want_ to help him, Lila?” Vanya said, an earnest look in her eyes.

Lila turned toward Vanya in surprise, then her gaze darted back to Luther again. “Okay, I see what you did there, turning this around on me.”

Luther grit his teeth, watching as Lila thought over her options. If she had been lying to all of them-

“Well, okay.” Lila said with a shrug, as she turned her gaze on Luther. 

Luther’s only warning was the glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Five said you should listen, and _do what Daddy tells you_.”

Luther flinched back and dropped her arm, mortification filling him in an instant as he remembered what Five had shouted at him in the middle of the street, on the day of Kennedy’s assassination.

“I mean I _really_ didn’t want to ask, but… what the hell?” Lila said, a look of fascination on her face.

“You know what?” Luther said. “Kill him. I don’t care anymore.”

It was Five. It was definitely Five who had sent her. Five was the only one among them who was there that day. Luther was going to strangle him the moment he woke up again. He was going to tear his eldest (youngest?) brother limb from limb and he wasn’t even going to feel guilty about it.

Vanya snorted with laughter, and Klaus was making the most ungodly cackling sound.

“Luther, _w-what_?” Allison was staring at him like she didn’t know whether to be disgusted or concerned.

“Oh my God,” Klaus breathed, staring up at the ceiling with a look of wild elation. “Luther has a daddy kink. Of _course_.”

“It’s an inside joke, alright?” Luther said, indignant. “None of you would understand.”

Diego was slapping Allison’s arm over and over again, glaring at her meaningfully.

“Fine, Christ,” Allison said. “ _I heard a rumor_ you can talk normally.”

Diego reeled back as the power took hold again, and then he took a deep breath. “Luther, _what the fuck?_ ”

Lila was cackling as she watched all of them.

“I told you, it’s an inside joke.” Luther insisted, glaring at Diego. “Alright, enough. Just heal him, or kill him, I don’t care anymore.” Luther gestured at Five, and stepped back, crossing his arms. 

Lila studied Luther, chuckling, for a moment longer, before she finally turned her attention back to Five.

On the bed, Five was still struggling for breath. Luther frowned, there was a blue tinge to Five's lips, and he hadn’t been so deathly pale before. Shit, why hadn’t he done this before they took the ventilator out? Five could die like this.

“Alright, any more objections?” Lila said, lifting her hands. “Or can I save your brother now?”

This time, no one stopped her.

“Well, here goes,” Lila said, and reached out her hands. Hovering over Five’s chest, Lila’s hands began to glow a pale blue. 

Luther held his breath, and prayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That bit in the final ep where Lila was all hearteyes at Allison and tried to introduce herself? That was pretty gay imo.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another massive thanks to every single one of you who have commented, you are keeping my crops watered and my light on and giving me drive like nothing else.
> 
> I hope everybody likes feelings, because this chapter is pretty much just that. Also, warning for some body dysphoria and what I think is technically a panic attack.
> 
> Before anyone gets confused, for Five, Lila + daughter of Ronnie and Anita Gill = Lila Gill.

Five opened his eyes, and saw, of all the possible people in the world, Lila Gill smirking down at him.

He felt like he’d been run over by a steamroller and then fed through a woodchipper before being taped back together again. And whoever had fixed him had done a very terrible job of it. His throat burned so badly he wondered if the same thing that happened to Allison hadn’t also happened to him. Death’s embrace had to feel better than this. There wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t hurt.

Five tried to reach for his memories, but could only find fragments - bright, coppery blood filling his mouth; a sharp, all consuming pain that overwhelmed all thought; and flashes of his siblings’ faces, twisted with panic and terror.

Jumping back to 2019, their father, alive, and something about sparrows?

None of that explained what Lila was doing here.

Staring at her, Five furrowed his brows. _What the fuck?_

“Are you-” The moment he tried to speak, the pain in his throat intensified, and he started coughing.

Suddenly, there was a cacophony of familiar voices around him. Someone’s hand was on his arm, and even as Five tried to shrug it away, someone else had slid their arm around his shoulder, and was lifting him up gently. Then a glass of water was being shoved in his face, and Five reached for it, ignoring the fact that someone’s hand was brushing back his hair. Holding the glass to his lips, he drank, and drank, until it felt like his throat wasn’t on fire anymore.

He handed the water back, and squeezed his eyes shut, taking a moment to collect himself again.

“How’re you feeling?” said Luther’s voice near his ear.

“Five?” Vanya said from somewhere further beyond.

“Are you okay?” Allison’s voice was timid, scared. And that wasn’t like Allison at all.

Five opened his eyes, and found he was on a bed inside the infirmary. Even worse, Luther’s arm was around him, and Allison was at his side, staring down at him with worried eyes as she held Five’s glass in one hand. Lila had been shoved further down along the bed, and across from her stood Vanya, who had a look of intense relief on her face. Klaus and Diego were at the foot of the bed. There was a too-soft look in Klaus’ eyes, while Diego looked like he was trying not to cry.

Five was too exhausted to really process how deeply uncomfortable the moment was. Questions drifted at the edges of his mind, just out of grasp.

“You can put me down now,” Five said stiffly, eyeing the arm Luther still had wrapped around his shoulders.

Luther blinked, and then pulled back, careful to set Five down gently.

Five settled himself against his pillow again. It was an incredible relief to stare at the ceiling instead of having to look at his siblings.

“You doin’ alright, Fivey?” Klaus said.

Five glanced down, considered the crowd of anxious people around him, then sighed. “Well, I’ve been better.”

“You scared the crap out of us, you know?” said Luther.

“Yeah, you got some apologizing to do, brother.” Diego said, and then sniffed wetly.

“Diego, he just woke up,” Allison turned toward Diego with a chiding look. “Don’t be a dick.”

“It’s who he is, he can’t help it,” Five said, then he looked toward Lila, eyes narrowing. “Why are you here? Come to finish the job?”

None of his siblings seemed particularly concerned by her presence, which signalled to Five that some sort of truce was in effect. There was also the possibility that she was mind controlling the rest of them somehow, but he wasn’t going to deal with that thought right now.

“Yes, but not the job you’re thinking,” Lila said cryptically.

“She says she’s from the future,” Klaus offered.

“Yeah, and she’s the reason you’ve awake and talking instead of delirious with fever right now, so you might want to say thanks,” Diego added.

Five wasn’t sure if he should be concerned that Diego looked prouder of Lila for helping than he seemed relieved that Five was alive. But then again, he tried not to care about most things Diego said and did. If he did he would have long since lost his mind during the whole JFK thing.

Five glanced at Lila, who shrugged and said: “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Five said, studying Lila suspiciously. He didn’t trust this, though it was hard to think of why right now.

“Take it easy for a while, yeah, old man?” Lila said. “You’re not injured anymore but your body’s still pretty worn out.”

It was incredibly disconcerting, seeing warmth in her eyes, when the last time they were face to face, they had been ready to kill each other.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Five said, eyes narrowed. He fought to keep them open as they tried to close. “What’s the catch?”

She couldn't have possibly done this out of the kindness of her heart.

“Eh,” Lila shrugged, “I got what I wanted. And besides, I don’t like owing people.”

Owing people? In his exhaustion, Five struggled to make sense of what that meant. His eyes slipped closed as a wave of lethargy washed over him.

“And what was it that you wanted, exactly?” he mumbled.

“Let’s just say your future self traded Klaus away like candy. You owe him one, by the way.”

“Huh,” Five murmured, though Lila’s words didn’t really mean anything to him. “Alright.”

The world faded as the fog of sleep rose up around him.

“Guess I'll see you on the flipside.” Lila’s voice came from somewhere far away.

Five’s breathing evened out, and he was asleep.

-

_He should have listened. Why didn’t he listen?_

_This is all his fault._

_He doesn’t know how to go back._

_How does he tell them sorry?_

_There has to be an answer. He has to find a way._

-

When Five opened his eyes again, there was a wolf-man staring at him.

Five bodily recoiled, and was already half-way through reaching for his powers when he recognized, through the clearing haze of sleep, that the creature staring at him was actually Diego. His brother looked even more unkempt than Five remembered, his hair scraggly and overgrown, his face thick with a beard, and his eyes in shadow.

For a long, agonizing moment, they two of them stared at each other.

“ _Why_?” was the only thing Five could think to say. He drew the syllable out, long and pained. What the hell possessed Diego to sit there staring at him like that? Five was not awake enough for this. Every part of him was still sore, and all of his limbs felt weighed down with lead.

“I would like you,” Diego said, “to apologize.”

It took far too long for Five to process Diego’s words. Five opened his mouth, his expression shifting into pure bewilderment. “I’m sorry?”

What the hell was Diego on about?

“For?” Diego said, lifting his eyebrows.

“The fact that I’m considering killing you right now so you might leave me alone?” Five mumbled, dragging a hand over his face.

The act didn’t wake him up at all, and just reminded him how tired he was.

“Hah, you can barely hurt a kitten right now,” Diego scoffed, a wild look in his eyes. “Try again.”

God, what the hell was this? “Are you in the habit of ambushing people who just woke up?”

“There’s something I need to get off my chest, but I’m going to need you to say sorry first.”

“What-” Five briefly squeezed his eyes shut, unable to wrap his head around Diego’s logic. “Are you holding _yourself_ ransom so I’d apologize? Maybe I don’t _want_ to hear whatever it is you have to say.”

“Five, look, I don’t want to be sitting here either,” Diego said, pulling out a knife, and pointing it toward Five like it was merely a pen to be waved around. “Just say the damn words, and then we’ll be done and you can go back to sleep.”

Five groaned. Did he really survive two apocalypses, and the Commission, for _this_? “Why didn’t Lila just kill me?”

Diego kicked his mattress. “Say it.”

Five grit his teeth as his entire bed jerked. Now he was dizzy too. Fantastic.

“Where did she go, by the way?” Five said with a yawn, hoping a change of topic would be enough to distract Diego.

“She left,” Diego grumbled. “She only came here to get Klaus’ help and to heal you.”

Five glanced at Diego, having no idea if Diego meant to sound as sulky as he did. What had Lila said again? Something about his future self?

“Did she have any messages for us?” Five said, his eyes slipping closed as exhaustion clawed at his consciousness again. What in God’s name possessed the future Five to recruit someone like her? Maybe not having to survive an apocalypse made himself soft.

“Not really, no. She kept saying something about the stupid butterfly effect,” Diego grumbled. “Though before she left, she said to go easy on her, and that she was still working through some stuff.”

Which meant that though Lila probably will join their side at some point, her loyalty wasn’t something they could count on the next time they saw her. _Great_.

For a moment, there was blessed silence, and Five almost began to drift off.

When Diego spoke again, his voice was weirdly gentle. “Five, was it Lila who shot you?”

“No,” Five huffed something almost like a laugh, “she’s not nearly as good as me.” Everything was becoming blurred and distant.

Before he could hear Diego’s response, Five was asleep again.

-

_They are all gone._

_He wants to go home._

_He wants his family back._

_He is crying. He is crying and crying and he can’t stop._

_So he screams._

-

The next time Five woke up, he was alone.

This time, Five felt much better. Though the aches in his muscles weren’t entirely gone, he felt refreshed, and his head was clear - which in itself was an immense improvement. His encounter with Diego felt like the remnants of a fever dream. Though Five was still quite sure that it did happen, he thought he might be able to get away with pretending it hadn’t.

Pushing himself up from the bed, Five carefully hopped off its edge and onto his feet, feeling only the slightest bit wobbly as he landed.

Someone had placed a uniform on a chair for him, but the familiar colors were reversed, and Five picked it up to find that the emblem was different from the one he knew. There were sparrows where the umbrella symbol used to be. _The Sparrow Academy?_ Five curiously ran his hand over it, considering its implications. The uniform was old and slightly worn, and had to be hand-me-downs from one of Reginald’s new children.

That’s right, Five thought, they’ve been unadopted in this new timeline, haven’t they? And his old uniform must be completely ruined from all the blood.

Even less from Five’s life remained now. Was there anyone left to remember his first thirteen years except for his siblings?

Probably not.

Five sighed, and changed out of his gown, before slipping his feet back into his stolen shoes.

He had to talk to Reginald. But he was also both filthy and starving, and that had to be dealt with first.

Letting himself out of the infirmary, Five stepped into the familiar hallway, and went toward the nearest bathroom. Along the way, he didn’t walk into a single person, and Five was grateful for the small stroke of luck even as he wondered where the rest of his siblings had gone. Briefly, he wondered if they had scattered back into the world and he had to go collect each of them all over again. But that was too depressing a thought that was best left until after he had investigated the house thoroughly.

After washing off the sweat and grime in a long, hot shower, even the aches Five had woken with seemed to fade. Whatever Lila had done, it seemed to have truly healed every single one of his injuries, from gunshot and shrapnel wounds, to minor bruises and scrapes. There weren’t even any scars left to remember things by, and it was almost like Five had never been hurt at all, like nothing in the past few weeks had even happened.

It only added to the sense of dysphoria that Five doubted he was ever going to shake. So he dealt with it by telling himself that he wasn’t bothered.

Once he was clean and dressed, Five started heading downstairs toward the kitchen, examining the house around him as he walked. His memory of their home was far from perfect, but it wasn’t hard to tell that this was not the place they knew anymore. The decor had been changed, the furniture shifted, even the orange afternoon light felt weird as it fell through the tall windows. Combined with Five’s lingering tiredness, it was almost like walking through a dream, everything around him slightly surreal, familiar enough only to be recognizable as what they represented.

Ahead, there was the heavy tread of footsteps, and Five turned a corner to find himself standing face to face with Luther.

Luther froze when he saw Five, the stiff line of his shoulders loosening as the distress on his face shifted into surprise, then relief.

“Five!” Luther said, walking up to him in a few long, urgent strides. “Where have you been?”

There was an edge of panic and anger in Luther’s voice that rankled Five immediately.

“What’s it to you?” Five said defensively, disdain in his voice. He stared up at Luther, resisting the urge to take a step back if only to make things easier on his neck.

“What’s it-?” Luther looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You vanished from the infirmary, none of us knew where you were!”

Only then, did it hit Five that Luther was _worried_. And alright, maybe that realization did make him feel kind of like the asshole.

“I don’t-” Five sighed. “I just needed a shower.”

Luther’s gaze raked over him, taking in his damp hair and his red Sparrow Academy uniform, before he finally seemed to calm somewhat.

“Please tell me you didn’t start some sort of search party.” Five said, praying he’d get to maintain some sort of dignity at the end of all this.

“Well,” Luther looked vaguely sheepish. “You know what, if you’re up, then I’m going to get the others, we need to talk about what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Five said with a frown, dread stirring inside of him. He’d prefer for this to be about Lila, or maybe the changes to the timeline. But it wasn’t going to be, was it? Luther also hadn’t answered his question.

“Five, you collapsed not two minutes after we arrived back here,” Luther said. “You were bleeding, you almost died.”

“I know, I was there,” Five said quietly, a vague sense of guilt rising in him as he stared at Luther. All of a sudden, it wasn’t hard to see the worry on his face, or hear the anxiety in his voice anymore. Five must have given them all quite the scare.

“Who hurt you?” Luther said with a note of desperation. “You just started bleeding out of nowhere. What even happened, Five? Do you know?”

Five did have an idea, a hypothesis, really.

He didn’t want to talk about it, but he also knew that it wasn’t something he could avoid if he wanted his siblings to all behave like passably normal people again. Maybe once they understood, they would stop all of this fretting and hovering, like Luther was doing right now.

“Fine,” Five sighed. “Get the others, I may as well explain it to all of you.”

-

What was the point of rewriting the timeline if there was still not a single drop of coffee in the kitchen? Rifling through the contents of the pantry, Five cursed in frustration as his efforts turned up nothing. He needed the caffeine if he wanted to get through the ordeal that explaining anything for his siblings had a way of becoming.

For a moment, Five entertained the idea of dashing out somewhere for some proper coffee. But he also knew, thanks to Luther’s earlier display, that his siblings would probably throw a collective fit if he tried to leave the house. Five settled for making a very strong cup of black tea instead.

It tasted like complete shit, but he wasn’t drinking it to enjoy it. As Five waited, he slapped together a sandwich, devoured it in a few bites, and was half-way through making a second one when Vanya appeared in the entryway.

“Five?” Vanya had a look of such intense relief on her face that it made Five almost immediately uncomfortable

“Take a seat,” Five said, not quite able to look her in the eyes. “We can get started once everyone gets here.”

“I’m glad you’re up and about,” Vanya said as she walked into the kitchen. “When Luther couldn’t find you I think he sort of assumed the worst...”

Well, that answered that question. Five made a face, but didn’t respond.

“How do you feel? We thought you’d need more time to rest after everything.”

Truth was, Five felt a little bit lightheaded, though he’d been feeling that way for long enough even before getting shot that it seemed normal. He reached for his tea, wondering if dehydration didn’t have something to do with it.

“Well, you know how it is,” Five said, forcing a smile as he raised his mug toward Vanya. “No rest for the wicked.” He’ll probably sleep when he’s dead, at the rate things have been going.

Vanya laughed. “I’m not sure that’s the right word for you, Five.”

Five drank his tea instead of replying, and mercifully, Vanya said nothing more and went to the counter to make herself a drink. Soon, Allison, then Klaus, showed up, each of them settling in around the table when Five made it clear he wasn’t going to suffer any more well-meaning mothering than strictly necessary.

Five polished off his second sandwich, and started considering a third. He hadn’t felt this hungry since the apocalypse.

It was easier to think about food, instead of the fact that everyone in the room was staring at him like they were scared he’d disappear if they looked away for too long. It was both deeply creepy and vaguely comforting at the same time, and made him dread the upcoming conversation even more.

While they all waited for Luther and Diego to show, Five dragged out everything his family knew about the changes to the timeline, and listened as they talked about their revived family members, about the Sparrow Academy, about Lila, and what they’d uncovered about their rewritten pasts.

Also, intense dreams, vivid enough to feel like memories - but misaligned, distorted, and strangest of all - always remembered - even after they woke up.

“I mean, it was so weird,” Vanya said, sitting in a chair and nursing her mug of tea as she explained her most recent dream. “Like, we know Mum has never been allowed to leave this house, but I’d never seen any place like that in the mansion, and she was right there at the dinner table watching us eat. She’s never been allowed at the table.”

Klaus sat opposite Vanya, legs on the table as he mused over Vanya’s words. Allison stood leaning against the kitchen counter, ankles crossed, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Huh,” Klaus said. “Did the room have like, these really weird chandeliers?”

Vanya turned toward him, her eyes widening with excitement. In that moment, Luther walked into the room with Diego.

“Chandeliers? Really?” Diego said as he leaned himself against the kitchen table. “This is what you guys talk about in your spare time?”

“No,” Allison said. “We’re talking about the weird dreams we’ve been having. Haven’t you been having them too?”

“Oh yeah,” Diego said, dismissive. “It’s some weird shit.”

“Alright, we’re all here.” Luther stood stiffly at the end of the table, and looked over each of them, as though to confirm that they really were all present and accounted for. Then, he turned toward Five. “Five, you need to tell us how you got injured.”

“Does he actually know what happened?” Klaus said, a skeptical look in his eye as he regarded Luther.

“Klaus,” Allison sighed, “that’s what we’re here to find out.”

Silence fell. Five, who had been staring at the empty mug in his hand, thinking about more tea, glanced up at the others. Staring at his assembled siblings, Five had a strange moment of deja-vu, remembering the last time he’d been at this table with all of their attention on him like this. For him, it had only been three weeks ago, but for some of the others, it had been years. Five wondered if they hated him for that, if they also missed the lives they’d built then left behind.

All of them were watching Five expectantly, varying shades of concern, curiosity, and confusion on their faces. Five hated being able to see their worry and disappointment, hated knowing that he was the cause. Somehow, his guilt felt the same as when he had addressed them all in Elliot’s apartment, trying to explain the impending end of the world.

This time, the topic was wildly different, but Five felt no more pleased about it.

Five carefully placed his mug down on the table, and slipped his hand into his pocket. Then, he looked warily at his gathered siblings before him.

“Right,” Five said. “I suppose I owe all of you an explanation.”

“You think?” Diego said.

“That was some really traumatizing shit you put us through, man.” said Klaus.

“Do you know who hurt you?” Vanya said.

“Look, I know what happened,” Five said, interrupting before his siblings could start badgering him in earnest. “Or at least, I have a plausible theory that explains it.”

“Was it Lila?” Klaus smirked. “I bet it was actually Lila.”

“I told you, it wasn’t her!” Diego made his point by pulling a knife and pointing it at Klaus. “Five, tell him.”

“It wasn’t Lila,” Five resisted rolling his eyes. He could see how Klaus would think that, considering Lila’s comment about owing him. Christ, how was he going to explain this without looking like a complete idiot? He wasn’t, that was how.

Five was regretting all of this already, but his siblings deserved to know, since they were the ones who’d had to deal with the repercussions.

“Five, if you know what it was, just tell us.” Allison said, crossing her arms.

“Alright.” Five nodded once. He might as well get it over with. “What do you guys know about chaos theory?”

Five blank faces stared back at him, and Five resisted the urge to sigh.

“Is that like a band, or...?” Klaus said.

“I think it’s like... a TV show?” said Luther, turning toward Klaus.

“You know what?” Five raised one hand and rubbed at his temples. “Let me reframe this.” He was so used to conceptualizing his powers with maths that it was hard to translate. He thought for a moment, trying to find the words that his siblings were likely to understand.

“To put it in layman’s terms,” Five said slowly, “my power, by default, operates to preserve physical states between spatial points. It maintains consistency, and continuity. It’s what lets me step through space and still remain the same person on the other side, instead of just a soul without a body, or a pile of fleshy goo.”

Luther and Klaus both made faces of disgust at the imagery his words conjured.

“But,” Five continued, lifting his arms in illustration, “as all of you can see, things get complicated when time travel is involved. When infinite possible versions of yourself are put into the equation, the slightest mistake can alter you permanently on a physical level.”

“Wait, are you saying you could have turned all of us into goo?” Klaus said, scandalized.

“Well, it was either to take the risk or let all of us get pulverized.” Five replied. “Besides, you’re fine. I was so focused on keeping everyone physically intact I messed up the destination instead.”

“You can say that again,” Diego muttered.

“Anyway, that’s beside the point.” Five continued, ignoring his brother. “The thing is, my powers aren’t just a pure exertion of will, they’re more like… Allison’s power,” he gestured toward his sister, “instructions I push to manipulate space-time to my whims. Usually, having the right maths helps me shape my intent, it gives me the right… wording, if you will, to make sure that my powers get me exactly where I want, when I want, and as the correct version of myself.”

Five paused, examining each of his siblings to check if he had lost anyone. Klaus looked like he had already stopped listening, but that was to be expected of Klaus. Allison was nodding, Vanya seemed thoughtful, and Diego just looked annoyed. Luther was so blank-faced Five couldn’t tell if he’d actually understood anything or not.

“What does any of this have to do with your injuries?” Luther said.

“I am trying to explain it, if you would just listen, alright?” Five said, fighting back a wave of irritation. “You guys wanted answers. If I don’t explain this, you’re not going to understand.” He glared at the rest of them, daring someone else to complain.

“Just… Five, go on,” Allison said with a sigh. “So your powers caused this, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes,” Five said. “And-”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Klaus interrupted with a dramatic sigh.

“Because it’s not that simple!” Five retorted, glaring at his brother.

Klaus just mocked him in a sing-song tone as he wiggled his fingers in air quotes. “ _It’s not that simple.”_

Five growled in annoyance. God, of course, why did Five ever think his siblings would care about the technicalities? He should have just used the least amount of words possible and kept things succinct. They were a bunch of children with no regard for nuance.

Five gave up.

“Fine,” he said. “I fucked up while using my powers and my body couldn’t figure out whether I wanted bullet holes in it or not, and kept glitching out until we travelled back to 2019 and the briefcase fixed what I messed up in the worst way possible. Does that explain it for all of you?”

“Thank you!” Klaus said, spreading his arms wide. Then, his mind actually seemed to catch up with Five’s words, and his expression shifted into confusion, as, true to Five’s prediction, he probably realized he _didn’t_ understand.

Allison and Vanya were both frowning, brows similarly furrowed as they tried to process Five’s words.

Luther opened his mouth as though he wanted to say yes, then, he hesitated.

“Think of it like…” Five waved a hand, grasping for the right analogy. “A skipping record. If everything was working correctly, then the music, or in this case, my basic physical form, would simply continue normally. Healthily. But, because of the glitch, my body kept stuttering, oscillating between different versions of myself, different moments in time.”

“So when we jumped with the briefcase…” Allison said slowly.

“It reset everything, and happened to fix my body in the version of myself that was bleeding to death.”

Diego had been nodding along, and then, his expression twisted with frustration. “Okay, but, when did you even get shot?

Five’s head snapped toward him, tensing. His mind flashed back to the moment, and for a second he was there on the freezing ground again, drowning in his own blood, gunfire ringing in his ears.

When Five didn’t answer, Diego spoke again, pressing forward like a hound chasing a rabbit.

“Five, we saw your injuries. Dad told us they were gunshot wounds. Where did it come from?” Diego leant toward him. “Was it when we were running from the Commision grunts? Look, I know I tried to block all the bullets, but-”

“No,” Five said quietly. He hadn’t thought about how to talk about this next part, had tried not to think about it, actually. Because the memory of watching his entire family being gunned down, of lying there bleeding, weak, useless, as he stared down the barrel of a gun waiting for his own execution, was something that was best buried in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, never to be reexamined. Just the suggestion of it still brought back the bitter taste of blood to his mouth, alongside a fresh, vivid terror that set his heart racing.

“Five, what happened?” Luther said, stepping forward, face serious.

“Five, please, you can tell us.” Vanya begged.

“Come on,” Klaus sighed. “Please? Five, spit it out.”

“Yes, I got shot,” Five snapped. “But it wasn’t permanent, okay? Or it… wouldn’t have been if I’d known what I was doing, or realized what was going on before it was too late. Just- Cut me some slack here, it’s not like I _wanted_ to keel over like that. I was just _trying to get us home_!”

He hadn’t meant to risk killing himself when he decided to use the briefcase before investigating his injuries. Exhaustion and pain had a way of clouding one’s mind. Five had been reduced to bare instincts, made into a boy who wanted nothing else but to get home to his bed and his robot mother.

The oversight had almost killed him. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

Around Five, his siblings were silent as they stared at him, varying shades of surprise, uncertainty, and guilt, on each of their faces. In that moment, trapped in a surge of bitter hurt and anger, Five didn’t care what they felt.

“And this isn’t… even our home anymore,” Five continued, his gaze flickering over his siblings, accusing. He’d wanted- He’d just- Five swallowed the lump in his throat, blinking rapidly against the stinging wetness in his eyes. “We fucked that up too because you guys couldn’t act like normal people for just _one dinner_ so we wouldn’t collectively get unadopted.”

The silence was deafening. And Five wondered if he hadn’t gone too far. Some part of him knew he was being unfair, but he was just… so tired. He hadn’t thought he'd had anything left to lose, aside from his family. But that had never been the case. Apparently, you could also lose the basic facts of your past. Everything sacred he had held close to his heart from the first thirteen years of his life, his entire childhood, was all but entirely wiped away.

Every time something Five wanted was right there within his grasp, it slipped away again. Every time he thought he had finally fixed his mistakes, he turned a corner only to find everything was now even worse. One step forward, two steps back.

“Five…” Vanya said softly. “We know. This isn’t easy for any of us, you know that.”

Five heaved a breath, and stared at the wall so he wouldn’t have to confront his siblings’ judgement. A faint sense of guilt swirled inside of him, mixing with his still simmering anger. This was why he didn’t let himself stop, why he never looked back, only forward. There was never any use thinking about the things he’d lost, all it did was cause more hurt that none of them needed.

He missed Delores. Would she call him selfish if he went to find her, in this new timeline? Would she still know him?

“Just… please tell us next time, when something like that happens.” Allison said. “All of us were terrified. You were dying in our arms, Five. And the last thing we want is to lose you, not after we just got you back again.”

Five almost laughed. If only it could be that simple.

“You know, sometimes we don’t get to choose what we lose.” Five said, his voice gentle in his weariness. “Only what we try and save.”

Allison’s expression twisted in confusion. “Five, what-”

“Five,” Klaus said suddenly, realization crossing his face. “Was it… the barn?”

Five froze. When had Klaus become the smart one among his siblings?

“Oh! The Handler!” Luther said, eyes wide. “That’s right! You took her gun!”

“Wait, she shot you?” said Diego, brows furrowing when Five didn’t deny it. “But you...”

“When you jumped…” Vanya said slowly, staring at the table, before she looked up at Five with shocked eyes. “That was time travel?”

There was no point hiding the truth, no matter how much he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Yes, it was the Handler,” Five said, grinding his teeth at the memories. “She came out of nowhere and... gunned down every single one of us.”

Haltingly, all of it came out - Lila calling them family, the Handler killing her own daughter, the arrival of the Swede. But there were some things that Five couldn’t describe, like the punch of bullets tearing through his flesh, the stench of blood in the air, the cold, bone-deep numbness that was left after the pain faded, as his body began to shut down. He couldn’t give voice to the desperation he had felt, the blind terror and fear that _this was it_. They had come so far, lived through so much, they had gotten so close to their second chance only to die together on a farm in the middle of nowhere.

Five had thought he might finally get to meet Claire.

Ask Luther all his questions about the moon.

Listen to Vanya play in concert.

Everything Five had done since he stepped foot in the apocalypse had been to avoid a fate like this. His family didn’t have to die young. Five had fought too hard, survived too much, to let that be the end of their story.

“All of you were dead. And since I was dying anyway, there was hardly anything left to lose,” Five said quietly. “So I tried something I’d never attempted before, and I... wound back time. Seconds, instead of decades. The second time around, I was ready for her.”

Around him, Five’s siblings stared at him in stunned silence.

Five watched them, his face blank.

Then everyone exploded at once.

“Wait, you couldn’t have opened with that?” Klaus exclaimed.

Luther was gaping at him. “You what?”

“That’s how you knew she was coming?” said Diego.

“Are you serious?” There was a shrill edge to Allison’s voice.

“Five!” Vanya cried, shooting to her feet. “How could you have not told us?”

His siblings swarmed toward him. Five unconsciously took a step back, curling his hands into fists to fight his sudden trembling.

“Because I had a feeling you were all going to overreact like this,” Five said, clinging to his frustration with everything he had. He didn’t need this overbearing concern. “It’s fine, alright? I won’t let it happen again.”

Klaus looked stunned. “Holy shit, Five.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” Diego said.

“Like I said, it was new for me as well, okay? I didn’t mean to unfix my own physical state, just like I didn’t mean to strand everyone across time,” Five said. “It was a Hail Mary, the execution was never going to be perfect.” It wasn’t like he’d had the time to figure out the maths.

Allison stood in shock. “You- I can’t believe you rewound time to bring us back to life.”

“I’ve also gone back in time twice to prevent all of you from dying in an apocalypse,” Five said evenly. “This is really not that different. Don’t make this a big deal.”

“I feel like I should thank you,” Luther said dumbly.

“Well,” Five smiled humorlessly. “You’re welcome. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Without waiting for a response, he jumped out of the room.

-

Five stumbled out into the upstairs hallway, his legs giving out from under him the moment he landed. He fell against the wall, and slid down, fingers pressing against the plaster as he tried to calm his rapid breaths, to quell the itch beneath his skin. His heart raced rebelliously in his chest, urging him to fight a battle he had already won.

He’d fixed it, he’d fixed all of it. His siblings’ deaths never happened because he stopped it, all three times. So there was no reason for him to break down like this, no logic to the way his heart won’t stop pounding. He didn’t need to replay that moment, the deafening shots, the spray of blood, falling, dying, again and again in his head.

It was such a pointless thing to obsess over. It was useless to dwell. He had survived this three times over now. The first time, when he found his siblings dead in the rubble, Five had dragged their bodies one-by-one across the city and dug graves to bury them in the park. The second time, as he watched the bombs fall from the sky, he could only think of how everything was only happening because he had fucked up the jump again, because of his mistake.

It shouldn’t matter that this time was the first time that he had been there to watch them take their last breaths

He’d fixed it.

He’d changed it.

That had to be enough.

Five sat against the wall, knees pulled against his chest, eyes staring vacantly ahead, and tried desperately to calm himself. He dug his fingers into the carpet, and let the feeling ground him anew in reality.

Gradually, his breathing slowed, and his heart beat steady again.

For a long time, Five sat there in the hallway, his mind blank with exhaustion. This was why, he thought distantly, that he didn’t let himself remember, that he didn’t let himself dwell.

He didn’t have time for this.

There were too many things that needed his attention. He needed to investigate this timeline and find out what had changed; try to track down more people with powers like theirs before they became threats; figure out whether the Commission was going to paint them as targets again, once the dust settled on their internal power struggles.

Then, there was the issue of his thirteen year old self, who might be running around alone somewhere out there right this second, wondering why he couldn’t find his family. Five didn’t need to go through another round of paradox psychosis if his past self came knocking on the door of the Sparrow Academy. So he had to track himself down, even if it was just to avoid interfering with his rewritten past at all cost.

But one thing, above all, had to happen first.

Five pushed himself shakily back to his feet. For a moment, he stood there, one hand on the wall to help him balance. Then, he took a deep breath, and set off into the house.

He needed to talk to Dad.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another massive thanks to each and every one of you who left a comment, I say this every time but just know that though I am no good at replying I read and apprecaite every comment and you are all keeping me sustained.
> 
> Also warning for... allison/luther ship negativity? some unsupportive comments are present in this chapter.

Two days wasn’t that long, all things considered.

Five had arrived at Reginald’s study, ready for a confrontation, only to find the room both locked and empty. Then he’d turned around and come face to face with Pogo, who told him that Reginald was away on urgent business, and wouldn’t be back for another two days.

Naturally, Pogo wasn’t interested in divulging _where_ exactly Reginald Hargreeves had disappeared to so that Five could find him. And unfortunately, threatening an affable old chimpanzee that had been a third parental figure to eleven other super-powered individuals, many of whom were Five’s own siblings, wasn’t really on the table. Five had had half a mind to rifle through the contents of Reginald’s study in his absence, but he had a sense that that sort of intrusion wouldn’t go undiscovered, and he wanted to stay on his Father’s good side for just a little while longer, at least until he’d had the chance to talk to him face to face.

So it left Five with quite a lot of time in a large house that didn’t belong to him. His first thought was to start digging around and investigating the timeline, but first he needed to talk to Diego and Luther about their position with the Sparrow Academy, and what they knew about them. Since they were still living under their roof, Five didn’t want to risk being caught looking into places he shouldn't, and give the Sparrow Academy even more reasons to be suspicious. At least, not until after he talked to Reginald.

It left him in a holding pattern of sorts, everything hinging on Reginald’s promised return. Two days. If Reginald Hargreeves was comfortable enough to vanish from the house for a few days, then maybe Five’s concerns weren’t really _that_ urgent. He could use the extra days to find his bearings in the new timeline, collect information, and prepare himself for whatever came next.

As much as he hated it, Five was still too weary and weak for his own liking. Lila’s advice hadn’t been an exaggeration. Despite having slept through the past week, his body was already exhausted after barely an hour of activity. If Five wanted to get anything done, he was going to have to let himself rest and recover first.

So Five found himself an unused guest room in a quiet corner of the house, furnished for simple functionality instead of for impressing guests. It had the basics that Five could use, with a bed, a desk, and a chest of drawers. Giving the place a quick once-over, and finding it satisfactory, Five locked the door and pulled the curtains shut.

Then, he stripped off his outer layers, crawled under the covers, and went to sleep.

  
  


-

  
  


_He was so tired of killing._

_All he had ever wanted was to save people._

_How had it all become this twisted?_

_How much longer before he could make it home?_

  
  


-

  
  


When Five woke up again, it was to the sight of a small mountain of a man slouched at his bedside. Luther was staring at Five’s blanket sadly, like someone had eaten the last slice of his favorite cake.

For a few seconds, Five stared at his brother, lamenting the fact that Luther had somehow been able to get into the room without waking him at all. He must have been more tired than he realized. It was still light outside, and Five figured that maybe only two or three hours had passed since his conversation with his siblings.

“What is it with you guys... and watching me sleep?” Five sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

Luther, who had been doing his best imitation of a brooding statue, looked up in surprise when Five spoke.

“You’re awake.”

“Obviously,” Five yawned. “I thought I locked the door.”

“You did,” Luther said, his face grim. “I had to get Diego to pick the lock.”

“You know, usually when someone locks a door, it’s to send the message that they _don’t want to be disturbed_.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t answering when I knocked, so-”

As he stared at the ceiling, it took Five’s sleep-addled mind a moment to connect the dots.

“Lila healed me,” Five said. “I wasn’t going to die in my sleep, Luther.”

Luther shrugged. “Well, we all know how old men’s hearts can just _give out_ on them.”

Was that _a joke_? Five narrowed his eyes at Luther. “Dad _killed_ himself.”

“It was a-” Luther stammered, then sighed. “Nevermind.”

Then, Luther went back to miming a statue.

Five stared at him for a moment, thinking he wasn’t awake enough to deal with whatever this was, and then sighed. “What do you want, Luther?”

Surprise, then panic, crossed Luther’s eyes in rapid succession when he looked at Five. Did Luther honestly think Five wouldn’t realize he was after something?

“Nothing, I-” Luther paused, crossing his arms. “It’s fine.”

Luther had always been a horrible liar. “Then _why_ are you sitting beside my bed?”

“Well I... I didn’t think I should leave you alone,” Luther said. “We had this whole rotation going on while you were out of it and I guess it’s… a bit of a habit now.”

A pained smile flickered across Five’s face. Luther was coming from a good place, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t testing Five’s patience. “Well, I’m hardly dying anymore, Luther. You _really_ don’t have to stay.”

“I know,” Luther said stiffly. “I just… want to be here.” 

Five frowned, watching Luther with something between confusion and suspicion. Just what was going on here? 

“It’s okay, go back to sleep.” Luther said.

“I don’t remember you being this clingy before,” Five mumbled, unable to fight back another yawn. Whatever it was, Five didn’t have the energy to deal with it. “Fine, suit yourself.” 

Then, he rolled over, facing away from Luther, and closed his eyes.

It was impossible to sleep with Luther all but breathing down his neck. But Five opted to ignore the giant gorilla-shaped problem in the room in the hope that Luther would eventually get the message and leave.

For a moment, Luther just sat there, until the fact that he shouldn't stay finally sank in.

“Alright I’ll just uh, come back later,” Luther said, standing up.

“Don’t,” Five murmured, his eyes shut.

“I’ll come back tomorrow.” There was the heavy tread of footsteps.

Frustration flared, red hot. Five’s eyes snapped open. “ _Luther_.” 

“Yeah?” Luther said from somewhere near the door.

“Sit down.” Five ordered, turning and pushing himself up so he was sitting against his pillows.

“I thought you wanted me to go.”

“I changed my mind.” Five was going to get whatever it was Luther wanted to say out of him, if only to give himself some genuine peace and quiet for the next few days. If he didn’t, Luther was probably going to keep haunting his room like some lost puppy looking for attention until he drove Five to madness. “Alright, out with it.”

“No.” Luther said, hesitant. “You should rest. We don’t have to talk.”

“Remember when I said you’re a terrible liar?” Five raised an eyebrow. “There’s something you want to say, so _say it_.”

Luther stared at him for a shocked moment. Then, his shoulders sagged, and he sighed. He went back to his chair, and sat down.

“Fine,” Luther said after a moment’s hesitation. “You vanished _again_ , Five.”

Five’s eye twitched, he didn’t like the accusatory tone in Luther’s voice. “And yet you found me anyway.”

“After _half an hour_ combing the house because you didn’t tell anyone where you were, and you didn’t go back to the infirmary. I had to ask _Klaus_ for help. You know how big this place is.”

Luther sounded positively sulky, and Five sighed. “I’m not some lost child, Luther.”

“No, but you are my _brother,_ Five.” Luther said. “And up until yesterday you were barely hanging on to your life in the infirmary, so _excuse me_ for still being worried. Do you have any idea how scared we’ve all been this whole time?”

Five was the one who almost died, and yet all Luther wanted to talk about was his feelings about it. Shouldn't there be some sort of social exemption? Five thought absently. If you were the one who almost bled to death after saving someone’s life, surely you shouldn’t have to suffer that person moralizing at you on top of that? 

“I’m sorry this happened, alright?” Five said, hoping it’d be enough to shut Luther up. “I never intended any of this. But I am _fine_ now.”

“You slept through the better part of a day, Five,” Luther said. “I’m not sure _fine_ is the word I’d use. You can’t keep-”

“Keep _what_?” Five said, daring Luther to say something idiotic like ‘getting hurt’ or ‘running off’, as though he was just some child who didn’t understand danger. Five’s only priority since coming back to 2019 had been to _save their lives_. Everywhere he’d gone, every injury he’d earned, had come back to that. For once, Luther could try being _grateful_.

“You can’t keep _hiding_ from us.”

_Hiding_? What was Luther on about? “Excuse me?”

“In the barn, after the fight, I asked you if you were alright,” Luther said. “If you were already hurt then, why didn’t you say something?”

“There was nothing you could have done,” Five said.

  
“You don’t _know_ that, Five. Because you _never told us_.” Luther said. “You can’t keep acting like you know everything when we all know that you don’t.” 

“Well, I definitely know hell of a lot more than you, Luther.” Five spat. If Luther was just going to act like a dick then so could he.

“That’s not-” Luther’s chest heaved, and he crossed his arms. “This isn’t about _me_ , Five. This is about you not getting help when you need it. You knew something was wrong. If you had just told someone, we could have helped you. Allison shouldn’t have had to find you collapsed in the bathroom!”

_Allison_. Five remembered the moment, and embarrassment burned hot inside of him. Why hadn’t he locked the damn door?

“Alright, I can admit that was not my best moment,” Five said, deflating somewhat. “But I think you might be overestimating how much the rest of you bring to the table.” 

Five smiled at Luther in a way he knew was condescending. He didn’t keep secrets for the fun of it. He kept them because usually, he could deal with a problem in less time than it would take for him to explain it to his family. The few times he had tried to get his siblings organized, it had always inevitably crumbled into chaos and rejection. When the clock was ticking on the apocalypse there was no time for him to stop and explain every small detail of his activities and plans, or to convince all of his uncooperative siblings of the right thing to do. 

“Five, you’re the one who came looking for us, you’re the one who wanted us to be a team. You told me you wanted us to figure it out together.” Luther said. “You can’t say that and then turn around and keep things from everyone. That’s not how it works.”

Yes, he _had_ wanted to be a team. That was right. It was so good that Luther reminded Five of what had happened when Five had gone to him, begging for his help. As Five remembered, all of his hurt and humiliation came rushing back to him. Luther, the fucking hypocrite.

Five launched himself from the bed and jumped across the room. Stepping out with his back to the door, Five advanced on his brother, blinking back a sudden wave if dizziness.

Luther leapt to his feet and stumbled back in alarm, knocking his chair over.

“You know, that’s _rich_ coming from you, Luther.” Five stabbed a finger at him. “Because I’m pretty sure that you were the one who told me, _twice_ , that you didn’t give a shit about helping me. When I tried to stop you from walking out you _threw me off the stairs_. And tell me, would you have done anything to help us find and talk to Dad if he hadn’t gone and sent you a dinner invitation first?”

Luther blinked, realization, then guilt, rising in his face. 

Five waited, and Luther didn’t reply.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Five said. “And let’s not forget that when I _did_ ask you for help, Luther? When I asked you to be my _spotter_? You started conspiring with my past self to _kill me!_ ”

“Okay, look, I know I’ve let you down, okay?” Luther said, pressing his hands down in a mollifying gesture. “But when it came down to it, I _had your back_.”

“ _After_ I had to _literally_ talk you out of fratricide.”

“Five. If you knew you couldn’t trust your past self and you knew about my… _daddy issues_ ,” Luther threw his arms in the air, “why did you even ask me? I was the worst possible person you could have picked to be a spotter. Why didn’t you talk to Allison? She could have probably just _rumored_ your past self into handing over the briefcase and everything else could have been avoided!”

Five was the one to be taken by surprise, this time, and his expression twisted with confusion. Was Luther really turning all of this on him? Of course Five knew Allison would be a better choice, but he hadn’t asked Allison because she wasn’t there. 

“She never showed up to the alleyway,” Five said.

“That doesn’t mean we didn’t have time to go find her!” Luther said. “No, we didn’t go because you wrote everyone else off the moment they didn’t show up without even considering why. You were so obsessed with the apocalypse and the idea that you were the only one who could get anything done that you never even _noticed_ that something might have gone wrong for the others. Diego got _kidnapped_. Vanya got _arrested_. And Allison was _attacked in her home_. Did you think that maybe they _needed your help_? _Our help_?”

Five hadn’t.

Five blinked, and looked away, not knowing what to say. 

When it came down to it, Five had simply trusted that his siblings could take care of themselves. But that wasn’t always the case, and Five knew it. In that moment in the alleyway, it had just _hurt_. He had murdered a dozen people to win them that chance and just like that it was _gone, wasted, for nothing._ Five hadn’t wanted to think about why his siblings hadn’t shown. The moment he considered that they might have valid excuses meant that he would have no one and nothing to blame but himself for ever believing they’d had a real chance. 

Five had just been... so tired, so _desperate_ to get everyone home. In his frustration, he had never truly stopped to consider that the small ways his siblings could get hurt might matter just as much as the looming apocalypse that would kill all of them. 

In his own way, Five had let them down.

“And look, I know I’ve fucked up in the past, alright?” Luther continued when Five didn’t respond. “I was the one who locked Vanya up, I sat around drinking while Allison was in danger, when you came to me I should have helped you but I didn’t. I’ve been… stuck in my own head, making things about myself when really, I should have just listened and been there for the rest of you.”

Five looked toward Luther then, struck by his words. He hadn’t expected it, but Luther’s apology undid something that had long sat barbed and tangled deep inside of Five. It soothed some hidden hurt Five hadn’t even realized he still carried.

“And I’m sorry, alright?” Luther said. “I regret _all_ of those things. And I wish that you would have just told me you were hurt, back in the barn. Look, if you don’t trust me, that’s _fine_. But at least talk to Allison, she’s always been smart and sensible. And there’s also Vanya, Diego, hell, even Klaus. None of us are perfect but we all have our strengths and our powers.” 

Luther paused, something uncertain flickering in his eyes.

“Five, just... be our leader,” Luther said, “if that’s what it takes for you to talk to us.” His gaze settled on Five, steady and certain.

Five raised his brows. Had Luther just asked what he thought he had? Luther, asking _someone else_ to lead?

“But we don’t need some sort of pseudo-father figure telling us what’s good for us and what to do.” Luther continued. “You’re not our _parent_ , Five, you’re our _brother_. If you want us to be a team then you also need to participate in it, and that means trusting us, and relying on us, telling us things even if you don’t think we’d understand. Don’t go around making the same mistakes I did, thinking I was more or less significant than all of you, when really, we’re all each just as important as each other.”

There was something so earnest, so regretful in Luther’s voice, that it was impossible to pretend that his words were born of anything but sincerity. Luther’s biggest flaw had always been that he _cared_ , too much, too hard, too deeply. He was a sensitive sap in such desperate need of affirmation that he had been helpless in the face of their father’s manipulations. Reginald had taken Luther’s eagerness to please and abused it, twisting Luther’s love for his family into something that suited his own purposes, at the expense of Luther’s happiness.

But now, stepping out from beneath Reginald’s shadow, Luther was finally speaking for himself, instead of for an authority figure who never cared about him. And he was fighting to keep his family together, to make sure that he didn’t lose anyone else.

Five’s anger had fizzled out somewhere around Luther’s apology. Now, he was just tired, and feeling an annoying amount of fondness for the tall blond oaf standing in front of him.

“That’s not a bad speech,” Five mused, his voice soft. “Especially for _Number One_.”

Luther let out a heavy sigh, a troubled frown still on his face. “Yeah, well, I’ve had a lot of time to think this past week.”

They had to move on from this topic if that expression was going to come off of Luther’s face. Five, for one, didn’t want to pursue it any longer. Luther had a point, perhaps, and Five could think on it in his own time, when he didn’t feel like he was about ready to pass out any second.

“What’s going on between you and Allison?” Five said, a calculating edge behind his curiosity.

“What?” Luther said, eyes going wide.

“ _She’s always been smart and sensible_?” Five said. It wasn’t so much that Luther was wrong, but the sudden gentleness in his voice when he had said it. “You’ve been giving her these weird looks since the farm.”

“I uh… Nothing’s going on between us,” Luther said, in a way that said something was definitely going on. 

“I see,” Five nodded. “So all that stuff you were saying about _trusting_ each other just then was-”

“Oh my God, fine.” Luther said. “I.. I had to give her mouth-to-mouth, when Lila rumored her to stop breathing.”

“That’s _it_?” Five said, a judging look on his face.

“Uh…”

“Christ, Luther,” Five groaned, “you’re worse than when we were teenagers.”

Luther sighed softly. “Now I sort of miss when you were unconscious.”

“Look, it was weird then, and it’s still weird now. Pull it together, Luther, we’re all practically siblings.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Luther said. “I just… care about her, alright? It’s only weird when you guys react like that.”

“No, it’s _weird_ when you make moon eyes at her. Go _outside,_ talk to people, _move on._ ”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk to me about weird infatuations. How’s Delores doing lately?”

“I don’t know, actually,” Five frowned, a look of wide eyed worry crossing his face. “Maybe I should go find her?”

Luther’s mouth fell open. “Okay, see that?” Luther said, gesturing at him. “That’s weird.”

Five’s look of worry melted into a soft, dangerous smile. “And now you know how I feel.” 

He did miss her, though. Five’s expression fell without him meaning for it to.

“You can’t compare Allison with a mannequin,” Luther said, frowning. “And she’s fine, by the way.”

“What?” Five’s brows furrowed.

“While you were out, I went shopping at Gimbel Brothers. I found her, or at least I think I did,” Luther said, doubt flickering across his face. “She was in this yellow dress and sun hat. I thought about bringing her to you but I wasn’t actually going to steal a mannequin from the store, so.”

Five’s expression went blank with surprise. He was more relieved than he could say. Back in the old timeline, Five had briefly worried that the store might throw Delores away. She had been damaged in the shootout, after all, even if he knew it was still possible to mix and match some parts to make her whole again. At least this time around, she was safe.

“That’s… kind of you,” Five said quietly, not daring to ask why Luther had gone all the way out there to shop just in case he said something unbearable like _I did it for you_. “Thanks.”

“What are brothers for, right?”

Five sighed. So maybe he did like Luther after all.

For a moment, there was silence. 

“Get out of my room, Luther.”

This time, Luther complied, and said nothing about returning later. Five crawled back under the covers, exhausted, and was asleep again in minutes.

  
  


-

  
  


_He could have stopped this._

_If he could just go back._

_But he had to do it right._

_This time, his maths had to be perfect._

  
  


-

  
  


A soft clattering sound woke Five, and he opened his eyes to find it was dark in his room. The only light came from the hallway outside the open door. Beside him, there was a small figure, laying down a tray, laden with food and silverware.

“Vanya?” Five said, squinting to make out her shape. “Why are you here?”

“I thought I’d bring you some dinner, but you were sleeping,” Vanya said softly. “Sorry I woke you.”

“I was just… surprised.” Five said. He’d been ambushed by two of his siblings already since being healed, he had thought Vanya might make a third, though it didn’t seem to actually be the case this time around.

“I’m sorry. This is weird isn’t it?” Vanya said, taking a step back. “It must be super creepy to wake up with someone in your room. I’m going to go. But you should eat.”

Vanya gestured at the food, then started to head toward the door.

“It’s fine,” Five said, turning on the bedside light. “You can stay if you want.”

Now that the tray was illuminated, Five could see that it had a bowl of soup, some toast, as well as sliced fruit - standard convalescence fare. The sheer novelty was almost charming. He hadn’t had anything like this since he was what… eleven? He had come down with a particularly nasty flu, and Mum had made him something just like this while he recovered.

“Are you sure?” Vanya said, eyes wide.

Five nodded, reaching to pull the tray of food into his lap. When he looked up again, Vanya was still standing stiffly near the door. 

“Well?” Five said.

Vanya hesitated, but then walked back in, and sat down in the same chair Luther had used earlier that day.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence as Five started to eat. He truly was starving, which was a good sign, he thought, that meant his body was recovering.

Next to him, Vanya stared at Five's plate, or his blanket, but kept darting glances at him every few seconds. It was so obvious it was becoming hard to ignore.

“What’s on your mind?” Five said. It seemed like every one of his siblings had something to say. Five was just going to have to weather it.

“Look, about what you said…” Slowly, Vanya started to speak.

Five kept eating, and waited for her to get the words out.

“I know you probably don’t really want to talk about it, but… I just want you to know that if you ever want to speak with someone, about anything, I’m… I’m here to listen. And I want you to know that I’m really glad, that you’re okay.”

Five paused, studying his sister. Vanya’s eyes were wide and sincere, she had curled into herself again, making herself small. She was clearly nervous, and all of it was oddly disarming. 

It was heartwarming, the way that Vanya cared about him. Five knew he’d never take her up on it, but it was nice knowing that the offer was there.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Five said softly.

Vanya stared at him a moment, as though making sure Five was being genuine. Then, she nodded, dropping her gaze, and let out a breath.

“How are you holding up, by the way?” Five said absently as he took a bite of toast. He’d always hated how the others had excluded her, as children, even though he’d been party to it himself on a few occasions. Five wondered how his siblings had been treating her since she regained her memories, though from what he’d seen, it had been friendly and civil for the most part.

“Me?” Vanya looked up, surprised.

Five nodded. 

“I’m not sure there’s just one word for everything I’m feeling.” Vanya’s laugh was small and self-depreciating. “The past month and a half, it’s been… insane. Outside of my month with Sissy, so much has been happening. I don’t know how much of it is because I’ve stopped taking my old medication, but everything is so _intense_. I don’t know how you do it, Five.”

Five lifted his brows, and shrugged, thinking back to the insanity of those two weeks. “Well, it helps to stay busy.”

For a moment, it was quiet between them, and Five focused on his food.

“I-I’ve been thinking,” Vanya said, “about your thirteen year old self.”

Five paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. If the main events of this timeline still remained the same, then his teenage self might very well already be running around somewhere. “What about him?”

“Do you think he still jumped? Vanya said.

“It’s definitely possible,” Five said with a tilt of his head. "Considering all of us still exist, we've probably all walked similar paths in both versions of the timeline."

“Shouldn’t we… try to look for him?” Vanya said, eyes worried.

“Probably,” Five said. “But considering I survived just fine the first time around, I’m sure he’s doing alright, especially since the world hasn’t ended.”

“Five, he’s _thirteen_.” Vanya said. “It doesn’t matter if the world didn’t end, you and I both know how dangerous _people_ can be. Someone out there could be lying to him, trying to hurt him. If all of us are here then he has no family beside him right now, he must be terrified.”

Vanya had a point, and for a brief moment, Five considered telling her about his dreams, and what Five strongly suspected were in fact memories from their alternate life history. But then again, it probably wouldn’t help Vanya to know that Five remembered breaking down in an alleyway, crying for his family as cars passed by on the street outside.

“Well, there’s not much we can do.” Five said. “If my younger self is running around out there, we have no easy way to find him. The best thing we can do is give him a reason to come to us, that is, if he doesn’t find his way to the Sparrow Academy by himself.”

“But what about the police? Maybe he asked for help.”

“Maybe,” Five said, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t count on it, though. I’ve always preferred to figure out my own problems, especially at thirteen.”

“So what are you saying? We just sit and do nothing?” Vanya said, an edge of anger in her voice.

“No, we try and piece together what we know,” Five said, “and try to find wherever it is we were brought up. Thirteen year old me’s first instinct would always have been to _go home_.”

“You think we were still brought up together in this timeline?”

“There’s a fair chance.” Five replied. “And ‘this’ timeline is the _same_ timeline. Like I said, considering none of us have popped out of existence yet, we must share enough similarities to our counterparts for the timeline to recognize us as natives who belong here.”

Vanya frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It means for this version of ourselves to keep existing, our past selves have to be similar people, who made similar decisions,” Five said. “It’s how you avoid becoming a paradox. For example, back in 1963, it didn’t matter if my past self went back to 2019 knowing more than I did the first time around. As long as he still went back, chances were, my existence would be preserved. The details don’t matter, as long as you meet the same milestones. It’s how the Temps Commision is able to maintain the timeline despite murdering people constantly, and why I tried to steer Diego away from his JFK rabbit hole. Admittedly, I wasn’t expecting this much to have changed when we came back.”

“Jesus,” Vanya breathed, eyes widening with shock. “Five, are you saying that interacting with your past self could have killed you?”

Five shrugged. “Well, if we wanted the chance to get back, it was a necessary risk.”

“No, Five,” Vanya groaned in exasperation. “Anything that involves you possibly _dying_ is not a necessary risk!”

Five made a face. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

“Five!” Vanya said, alarmed. “You can’t mean that.”

“Look, Vanya, you’re not going to change my mind about this,” Five said evenly. “There are bigger things at stake than the life of just one person. Do you know how many people I’ve _killed_ just to get back here to save all of you? If a few lives must be sacrificed to protect everyone then that isn’t a risk, Vanya, it’s a simple necessity.”

Vanya gaped at him for a long, stunned moment, before she spoke again.

“Well,” Vanya said, stubborn. “I’m not going to let you.”

It was sweet, the way that she cared. Five offered her a small, reassuring smile. “I’m not afraid it’s not always up to you, Vanya. It’s not up to any of us.”

Vanya sighed, and curled in on herself, pressing her head against her hands. “Well, if what you’re saying is true, then I guess it might be bad if we interfered too much with your younger self.

Five nodded. “Yes, and I admit I’m not particularly keen for another round of paradox pychosis.”

“Paradox what?” Vanya looked up at him in bewilderment.

Five explained.

“That makes things more difficult.” Vanya said. “But I still want to try and find you, Five. It can’t be right to let yourself suffer needlessly like that.”

“There’s still time to figure it out.” Five said. “Trust me, with my powers, it would have been easy for me to survive in functioning society, even at thirteen. Tell me more about the dreams you’ve been having.”

Vanya was silent for a moment, and then sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

Vanya sat with him for a little while longer, and they talked together, moving onto lighter topics after a while. As they chatted, Vanya filled Five in on some of the stories she hadn’t put into the book, and told him about the years that passed in between the book's release and Five landing in front of her - her students, the orchestra, her favorite café.

Five had missed his chats with Vanya. Over the years, he had often wondered what had happened to her - he’d never found her corpse before the dead bodies became unrecognizable. Now, even though the woman in front of him was no longer the girl he remembered, Five thought he could still see fragments of who Vanya used to be. His sister had always been soft-spoken, gentle, caring, and she was still all of those things now. It reminded him of when they used to be small, when Vanya would seek him out, and they’d complain about their siblings, or examine the new violin pieces she was working on.

It was nice to be back, Five thought. It was nice to have moments like this again.

  
  


-

  
  


On the second day, a few hours after breakfast, Five went hunting for Diego. 

It was more out of necessity than anything else. Luther was out of the house on some sort of errand, and he and Diego were the two siblings Five hadn’t had the chance to grill about the changed timeline. Five wanted to find out more about the Sparrow Academy, and though he could glean plenty of information from the house itself, the members themselves were suspicious of them and hard to track down, frequently leaving the mansion as they went about missions and their lives. 

Every sibling Five had talked to that morning had pointed him in Diego’s direction the moment their counterparts came up in conversation. Diego was apparently the one person among all of them who had spent the most time digging into their history and activities. Five wanted to count on Diego’s findings being useful, considering he was the wannabe detective among all of them.

Five needed that information, not to mention whatever clues Diego’s dreams might offer, if he was going to start planning their next step. 

Allison, during breakfast, had reassured Five that Diego was in the house that morning, and pointed him to some likely places their brother might be brooding in. After checking Diego’s new room, the old observatory, as well as the general vicinity of Mum, in the end, Five found Diego in one of the training rooms. His brother was furiously pummeling a punching bag in a loose tank and shorts. Despite the gym clothing, he still had his belt of knives on him, like it was some sort of security blanket.

From the second Five walked into the room, Diego didn’t give Five much more than a single glance. And for a brief moment, Five stood there with the false hope that his brother would acknowledge him, and that they could speak together like proper adults for once.

He was not nearly so lucky. Diego was focused entirely on the punching bag in front of him, and for a time, the only sound in the room was the rhythmic thump of him striking the bag again and again.

Five swallowed a sigh. Diego always had a way of testing his patience. He remembered the brief encounter he’d had with his brother back in the infirmary, and how obsessed Diego had been with the apology that Five apparently owed him.

Five supposed he could be the mature one in this situation, someone certainly had to be.

He eyed the rows of firearms lining the walls as he broke the silence. “Considering your recent power upgrade, I thought you’d be training with something more interesting.”

“Even if I did agree to let you shoot a gun at me, Five, I don’t really want to see your face right now.”

Now Five was sure this was definitely about the damned apology. Out of all Five’s siblings, Diego had always been one to hold a grudge. Five remembered the time when they were ten, when Klaus had bleached Diego’s hair by switching his conditioner. The rest of them had had to foil several murder attempts while scrambling to and hide and fix everything before Dad found out. Allison had to rumor Luther into not telling Dad himself. Five had been forced to shoplift hair dye from a store. Vanya and Ben had to distract both Mum and Pogo. Diego wouldn’t talk to Klaus for a full two weeks, after.

Five thought through all the ways he could have wronged Diego. He supposed there was the _one_ thing he felt faintly guilty about.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Five said, wishing he wasn’t so intrigued by what Diego might know. “Is this about the asylum?”

Diego levelled a look at him that Five couldn’t quite read, but for the note of surprise in Diego's eyes.

Five supposed what he’d done was shittier than Klaus ruining Diego’s hair. A 60s mental institution wasn’t exactly a hotel resort, and Diego had always been a baby about needles since even before they got their tattoos. Five had felt a little bit awful, standing there listening to Diego’s terrified screams as the orderlies moved in with the tranquilizer needle. Reassuring Diego that he would be back later probably hadn’t meant much.

When Diego didn’t correct him, Five took it as a yes.

“Fine,” Five said. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” Diego said, narrowing his eyes.

Alright, so Diego was going to milk this. Five held back his frustration. He supposed he could give his brother a bit more.

“For betraying you when you trusted me,” Five said, “even if it was for your own good.” 

Diego stared at him, and there was just the slightest pout on his lips.

“Though you wouldn’t have gotten tranquilized if you hadn’t tried to launch yourself across the table at me, it must have taken you a long time to shave down those bars.” Five continued. “I’m sorry it was all for nothing.”

“You know, at the start of that apology I actually _didn’t_ want to punch you?” Diego said, his gaze heavy as he considered Five. “But you know what, I’ll take it.”

“Yippee,” Five deadpanned. 

Part of him wanted to make Diego understand why his actions had been necessary. At the time, Five hadn’t found the others, and he’d needed time to track down the rest of them. Then, there was every chance that Diego’s interference, should he really succeed in saving Kennedy, might be what set off the apocalypse, or derailed the timeline so much that he erased everyone’s collective existence. Five couldn't let Diego run around messing up the timeline when he still had too many missing pieces. The easiest way to keep Diego out of the picture, to keep him safe, was to let him stay where he was just a little bit longer. 

Yet none of that really mattered in the end, considering that the Swedes had gone after him anyway. All Five had really done was hurt Diego unnecessarily, and he had never paused to consider what his actions meant for his brother. 

It was easy to overlook things like feelings, when the fate of the world hung in the balance.

“Alright,” Deigo shrugged, looking a little less angry. “Now you can apologise for the actual thing.”

_What_. 

“Diego, I may have been indulging you for the past five minutes. But if you don’t tell me what the hell it is you want right now, I am walking out of this door and we will _not_ be talking again.”

At this rate, when Five finally snapped, Diego was going to be the first to go.

Diego stared at Five, as though gauging whether or not he was serious. Then, he grit his teeth, then sighed. 

“Five, you didn’t tell _any of us_ that you were hurt.”

Did he really have to do this again?

“I know, I’ve already been through this,” Five sighed. “If I want us to be a team then I need to participate and trust you guys. I get it. Alright?”

“What?” Anger and confusion flashed across Diego’s face. “I don’t give a shit about whether or not you want to be on the team, Five. You need to fucking learn that your actions _affect other people_. Every time you hide your injuries or keep things from us, it screws with the rest of us, and _people get hurt_!”

“What are you talking about?” Five said on reflex, Diego’s tone automatically putting him on the defensive. 

“Oh, you want me to give you a list?” Diego said. 

Five blinked, his insides twisting as something told him he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.

“How about when you first arrived in 2019 and brought a bunch of Commission _assassins_ with you?” Diego said. “You made _everyone_ a target and didn’t once bother to warn us! Klaus got kidnapped and tortured because of you, my friend _died_ trying to save him because I told her _you_ were the one who was missing. If you had just _said something_ at the very start, if you had bothered to _tell us_ where you were and what you were doing, maybe no one would have had to _die_!”

Five grit his teeth, and forced himself to meet the full force of Diego’s glare. There was no point in saying that he had been trying to protect them, had been trying to keep them from getting involved because he didn’t want them to die in the attempt again. Because Diego wasn’t wrong, all of that had been his fault. Five could have warned them about the Commission, but he’d chosen not to, thinking the only one the Commission would care about was him.

“And then in 1963, if you had, I don’t know, maybe _told us_ that you had gone and provoked the entire Commission by offing their board of directors, I might have known to be on my guard when Lila showed up again, so she wouldn’t have had the chance to drug and then kidnap me!”

Confusion flickered across Five’s face. Wait, that was how Diego got ‘headhunted’? Though it had worked out for them in the end, Diego’s reaction told him how much the experience had shaken him. Part of Five wanted to question Diego’s wisdom in being ‘in love’ with a woman who didn’t hesitate to do something like that, but this was not really the time. 

Diego still wasn’t done.

“And then on the farm, I _asked you_ if anything was wrong when you started coughing. But you refused to say anything except to order me around, instead of, you know, telling us you weren’t feeling well and letting us help you.” Diego continued. “Do you know what happened after you collapsed in the parlor? Everyone else _blamed me for it._ Apparently because I had spent the most time with you, I was the one who should have been looking out for you. Everyone has been treating me like shit all week because I hadn’t taken your symptoms seriously. You know why? Because you never fucking _said anything_.”

Five’s face twisted with disbelief. Had everyone really been treating Diego that way? Because of him?

“And _on top of that?_ ” Diego was shouting now. “I have had to spend the past _week_ wondering if I hadn’t been the one who fucked up and got you shot when I tried to block the bullets and made you run ahead. I have been fucking _killing myself_ with guilt when you could have just _told us_ about the damn time travel from the start!”

“You’re not responsible for me.” Five said, his voice unintentionally small. He was bewildered, and a little bit offended, that his family chose to pin the blame on Diego, of all people.

“You know, that’s also what I thought?” Diego replied. “But apparently that makes me a shitty brother. So here’s the deal, in the future, if something happens that involves you possibly getting hurt, or someone coming after us, you _tell the rest of us_.”

Five’s patience was fading fast. He didn’t need Diego standing here, making _him_ feel bad about everything that had happened, because he couldn’t handle his own misplaced guilt.

“Look, I’ll admit I could have done a better job warning you guys about the Commission,” Five said, his composure hanging on by a thread. “But all of you need to get it into your head that I am _not_ actually thirteen years old. I can take care of myself, and I know my own limits.”

“Five, you don’t _know_ your limits. You’re not physically fifty-eight anymore, and you’ve only been a thirteen year old for what, the two weeks that you’ve spent conscious?” Diego said. “You almost died on us! How many times do we have to tell you this for you to understand it?”

_I almost die all the time,_ Five thought stubbornly. He could get through it alone, he always had. In the apocalypse, when he fell through a crumbling floor and broke his leg, when he got mauled by a starving animal, when he fell so ill one winter he was hallucinating his family around him, each time he had survived. When he was exhausted, bleeding, when he was sick and broken down, Five always picked himself up and kept moving. He’d even had the scars to prove it.

Five’s fury was almost a tangible force, seething beneath his skin. The sheer _impertinence_ of Diego thinking he could tell him what to do, thinking he knew better when he had no idea of the type of shit Five had lived through. The unbelievable _insolence_ of Diego screaming down at him like this, like Five was some unruly child to be admonished, when _he_ was the one throwing a temper tantrum because he felt a little bit bullied by his siblings. Even if Five knew, deep down, that Diego’s anger was born from his fear and concern, he had never wanted to punch his brother more than in this very moment.

Five stared at the punching bag hanging beside Diego, and considered the cushioned floor beneath his feet, the wide open space around them. 

“Well, here’s something that might help _you_ understand, Diego,” Five said, his hands curling into fists.

Confusion flickered across Diego’s face.

“When was the last time you sparred somebody?” A feral grin broke out across Five’s face.

It was the only warning Diego got. 

Diego’s widening eyes was the last thing Five saw before he launched himself across the room with his powers and jumped out behind his brother, stomping on Diego’s leg to bring him to his knees. In the same moment, Five snaked a hand around Diego’s chest and pulled two of his knives from their holster, flinging them into the wall behind him.

Diego cursed, and whirled around with an elbow strike that Five blocked as easily as he dodged the punch that followed, as Diego pushed himself to his feet.

It was exhilarating, trading blows with his brother, and letting loose every frustration that had been building in him since the moment he woke up in the infirmary. Five’s younger body might not have the resistance and muscle tone that he had grown used to relying on, but it was still well honed and athletic, thanks to their father’s grueling training regimes. Five wasn’t quite as strong as he used to be, but he was _fast_ and light on his feet.

Diego’s anger, just like Five’s, had been a powder keg waiting to go off, and with each strike that Five blocked and matched evenly, he could feel his brother’s reservations falling away. Here and there, a punch or a kick landed, but it fazed neither of them as they continued swinging at each other. 

With a spinning kick, Five knocked Diego off balance and followed through with a chest kick that knocked his brother back several feet.

Diego, regaining his stance, levelled a glare at Five that Five met with a smirk. Then, Diego growled and launched himself forward again.

Five dodged his brother’s first strike and blocked his second before moving in to attack. Resisting the urge to use his powers and end things quickly, Five forwent his usual repertoire of lethal maneuvers, instead relishing the chance to beat the shit out of his brother like he had been wanting to for a _very_ long time.

Their skill and precision was the only thing preventing the combat from devolving into a full-on brawl. Neither of them were fighting to disable each other, and it meant their fight dragged on for much longer than it ever would against a real enemy. In the end, his endurance worn down by his injuries, it was Five who tired first. Diego came at Five with a punch he wasn’t fast enough to block, and it dazed him long enough for Five to miss Diego’s follow up that landed him flat on his back.

Diego was on him in less than a second, though it didn’t stop Five from reaching up and pulling Diego’s final throwing knife from its holster as Diego fell forward onto his knees, all but straddling Five.

They stopped, chests heaving, sweat beading on their brows, as they stared each other down. Diego’s forearm was pressed across Five’s neck, his other arm pulled back and ready to strike. Five, in turn, had his knife poised at Diego’s throat in a reverse grip, its edge pressed against his jugular.

Diego glanced down at the knife, then frowned, annoyance flickering across his face when he realized that it made him the loser.

Five watched him a moment longer, before he pulled his arm back, and flipped the knife to offer it to Diego, handle first. At the same time, Diego straightened and moved away from Five, an oddly conflicted look on his face. He took back his knife, and then fell sideways, twisting to sit side by side with Five, elbows on his knees.

Five pushed himself up carefully, rubbing his throat with one hand as he took the moment to catch his breath. It had been barely 24 hours since Lila healed him, and now he could already feel some fresh bruises starting to form. The thought almost made him want to laugh. So much for taking it easy.

“Shit, Five.” Diego said, panting beside him.

“Gotten it out of your system now?” Five said, clearing his throat.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Diego said. “You’re the one who fucking attacked me.”

“You were asking for it,” Five said, though there was no venom in his voice. 

Five thought about getting back to his feet, but he wasn’t quite sure he could stay standing. Maybe he could sit here for a while longer.

Beside him, Diego just sighed. The fight had worn through the worst of his anger, just like it had Five’s. For a moment, they simply sat together in exhausted silence, catching their breaths. Five blinked as sweat caught in his eyelashes, and dripped down.

“Look, I’m only going to say this once,” Five said, once his breathing had calmed. 

Diego glanced over at him warily.

“You’re right.” Five said the words before he could think better of it. “I do need to… remember how to be a brother to all of you again.” 

As much as Five hated it, beneath all of Diego’s aggressive yelling and posturing, his brother had a point. 

“I need to remember that the things that affect me, will also impact the rest of you,” Five pressed his lips together, “whether I want it to or not.”

Diego was silent, and Five couldn’t bring himself to see his brother’s reaction.

“It’s just… I haven’t had a whole lot of practice,” Five explained, “in being part of a family again.”

The admission made him feel lighter, somehow, and Five considered the strange feeling in his chest, confused, in the lull of his words.

Then, Five took a deep breath, and continued. “If Vanya’s book is anything to go by, in the past ten to fifteen years, neither have most of you. So I would appreciate it if you could at least _try_ being mature about things in the future.”

They were all trying to figure out this family thing all over again, after so many years apart. It wasn’t so bad to admit that they were each struggling in their own ways to figure out what it meant to them.

Feeling like he finally had his bearings again, Five pushed himself to his feet. He paused for a moment, making sure he could keep his balance, before dusting himself off.

“I’m sorry about everything that happened. But here’s the thing I need you to remember,” Five said, finally setting his gaze back on Diego. “I am a grown man, and I will be the one responsible for myself. Whatever it was that the others said or did to you to make you feel different, like you’re in some way _accountable_ for what happens to me, they are wrong.”

Confusion, and something like hurt, crossed Diego’s face, as though he had never expected Five to take his side at the end of everything.

“And if any of them says shit to you that concerns me?” Five continued. “Tell them they are welcome to take it up with me directly. You’re not my fucking keeper, Diego, none of you are. And none of you get to take the blame if something does or doesn’t happen to me because of the choices that _I_ make.”

Diego was silent. His eyes were wide as he stared at Five with a strange, conflicted expression that Five didn’t have the energy to decipher.

Five stared at Diego, unwavering, as he waited for his words to sink in.

Finally, Diego sighed, and looked away.

“Well, that makes the apology I prepared pointless,” Diego grumbled. There was a small smile on his lips. “So thanks for that.”

Five huffed in laughter. “Save it for someone who needs it.”

Diego’s defining feature had always been his anger. Five had never quite understood it when he was a child, but now it wasn’t so hard to decipher. Growing up, Diego had never felt seen, never felt heard, overshadowed by Luther and embarrassed by his stutter. He needed someone to take his side, once in a while, to remind him that he mattered.

“You do need to stop hiding injuries though, alright?” Diego said, his voice soft. “If something fucked you up then just say it, we’ve got your back, Five.”

“Sure, whatever,” Five sighed. He tried to think of a snide comment to soften the blow of humiliation, but his mind came up blank, which was concerning.

Five’s legs felt weak, and he needed to get out of here before he collapsed again. Without paying any more attention to Diego, he started heading for the door.

Halfway there, he remembered something, and paused, turning back toward his brother. 

“By the way, Diego?”

Behind him, Diego was climbing to his feet. He looked up at Five in surprise.

“If you _ever_ fucking talk to me like that again?” Five said. “That knife is going straight into your throat, and you can find out _exactly_ how Allison felt after her run-in with Vanya. _Capiche_?”

Diego gaped at him, a look of horror and disbelief falling across his face.

“Good,” Five said, giving Diego a quick once-over, before he walked out the door.

The fucking nerve of his brother. Some days Five couldn’t believe he actually loved that mouthy idiot.

  
  


-

  
  


As Five walked through the house, adrenaline fading, his exhaustion came rushing back with a vengeance. After the talk with Diego, he was completely wiped, but Five couldn’t quite bring himself to regret the fight. Both of them had needed the outlet. Among all of Five’s siblings, Diego was the one that you sometimes just needed to literally punch sense into.

The distance between his room and the training room was not that long, but between the weakness of overexertion and the exhaustion chewing again at his thoughts, the time it took felt like an eternity. Eventually, Five stumbled back into his room, muscles trembling, and fell onto his bed. Diego had also had a point about Five not quite knowing his limits, but that was something easily figured out when he pushed himself to it again and again, inadvertently or not.

His churning thoughts all faded to nothing, in the end, as Five fell asleep on top of his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five: Diego is such a dumbass I am going to literally beat him up, that annoying little shit  
> Also Five: I have only had Diego for three weeks but if any of you hurt him because of decisions I was responsible for I will kill all of you and then myself


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, with feeling, a thousand thank yous to each of you who has left a comment. I love you and I appreciate you and this chapter is dedicated to each of you. Instead of personalised replies I focus on getting the next chapter out and I hope that's good.
> 
> Also, as always, un-betaed, my apologies for the mistakes.

Five slept straight through lunch, and woke up sometime in the late afternoon, sore and weary, with a pounding headache behind his eyes. After lying on his bed in a ball of misery for about a full minute, Five forced himself to get up again. He had fallen asleep in his clothes and was sticky and gross with dried sweat, so he found another bathroom for a quick shower and gave his clothes a cursory scrub and blow dry before he went hunting for food and painkillers again. The uniform was getting filthy, but he didn’t have anything else to change into. So that was something else he had to figure out.

When Five arrived downstairs in the kitchen, he found Klaus rifling through the pantry, muttering something as he shoved half of his body deeper into the depths of the cupboard.

Five spent a few dumbfounded seconds staring at his brother with something akin to morbid fascination, before he dismissed Klaus with a shake of his head, and went to check the coffee maker, just in case someone had been thoughtful enough to stock and make some coffee since yesterday.

Five picked up the coffee pot to find it disappointingly empty, and there was no ground coffee anywhere in sight. He sighed, and put it back down.

“I don’t suppose there’s any coffee in there?” he said to Klaus.

“Oh hey!” Klaus stumbled back from the cupboard and spun around toward Five, hugging a bag of gummy bears to his chest. “The sleeping beauty is awake! I was starting to wonder if you were actually still alive up there.”

“If the alternative is being stuck with you for the rest of your life, Klaus, trust me when I say that I would do _everything_ in my power to avoid dying.” Five said, smiling humorlessly.

“Aw…” Klaus grinned at him, waving a hand in an aw-shucks kind of way. “That’s so mean? But also really reassuring. Now I feel so _conflicted_.”

Five just shook his head and sighed, turning toward the fridge. He was starving, so maybe he should deal with that instead.

“There’s no coffee, by the way,” Klaus continued, moving toward Five, “but you can have some gummy bears if you want.” He held out his bag and gestured at Five. “You’re starting to really resemble a stick insect, and that’s _not_ healthy for a growing young man.”

Consternation flashed for a hot second, and Five briefly considered punching Klaus as well. But he was too hungry and sore for another round of violence today, and he had a feeling Klaus wouldn’t take it nearly as well as Diego did.

“Don’t call me that,” Five said tiredly instead. He was thinking a lot about violence lately, he really needed some coffee.

Five considered the bag of candy in Klaus’ outstretched hand, and then reached forward and grabbed a few from the bag. He popped one into his mouth, and chewed as he went toward the fridge. The orange flavor wasn’t half bad.

Five pulled open the fridge and investigated its contents. There weren't any leftovers he could heat, but he could whip something up quickly, perhaps. He reached for the eggs and scallions, deciding on some sort of omelette. It was weird sometimes, having his choice of fresh ingredients just _there_ waiting to be used. Three years with the Commission and sometimes the fact of it still felt new and surprising. He pulled a knife from the block and found himself a cutting board.

“Oh, are you cooking?” Klaus said, hovering over him curiously.

“Go away, Klaus,” Five waved his knife vaguely in Klaus’ direction as he set the board down on the counter.

“When did you learn to _cook_?” Klaus mused. “Oh _wait_ , you can do everything. I remember now.”

Five threw him a look of annoyance, then started slicing the scallions. “I spent forty-five years in the apocalypse, Klaus. It was a lot of time to learn a lot of things.”

Cooking had been one of the things he’d had to figure out once he’d set up a sustainable farming system and no longer had to rely on scavenging for food. It had been a delicate balancing act in the first few years, rationing canned goods and supplementing his diet with fresh food until he was growing enough to last him the whole year. In the later years, there had been entire days spent preserving and pickling produce so he wouldn’t starve in the winter.

Sometimes Five missed the steady quietness of that existence. When he wasn’t working on the maths that would take him back in time, there hadn’t been much to do aside from learning and making projects of new things. Reginald had always drilled it into his head how important it was to develop his skills. Since Five had only himself to rely on, and had always known that he was going to go back to save his family, he had, in a way, been training himself for longer than any of his siblings have even been alive. His skillset had ultimately served him well in his years as an assassin.

“Oh, did you ever learn juggling?” Klaus said, pouring himself into a kitchen chair next to Five as Five prepped the ingredients. “I had this guy in my commune who could juggle like, eight things at the same time? He had this really _neat_ trick he could do with swords. And so one day I was like, buddy, have you considered trying jello-”

Five zoned out as Klaus rambled at him about his years as a cult leader. Strangely enough, he’d sort of _missed_ Klaus, having barely seen him during the chaotic week in 1963. And maybe Five did want to ask about the _cult_ thing, because how the hell did Klaus manage to find not just one, but an entire group of people willing to put up with his nonsense? He’d never quite pinned Klaus to have the level of sociopathic narcissism that was usually demanded of cult figureheads, though perhaps he just didn’t know his brother well enough.

As Five cooked, he let the sound of Klaus' voice wash over him, only half-listening to make sure that his brother didn’t segue into anything actually useful without Five noticing. The sound of Klaus' voice was weirdly soothing, because being around Klaus had a way of making Five feel like he was the _sanest_ one of the family, which Five had enough self-awareness to know probably wasn’t quite true.

By the time Five was plating his food, Klaus had moved on to telling him horrible, ridiculous stories that couldn’t possibly be true. It was yet another truly a fascinating glimpse into his brother’s headspace.

“So I thought, hey, why waste the champagne, you know?” Klaus said, gesturing at nothing in particular. “Just because it’s been used in a swimming pool doesn’t mean it’s- Oh hey, Luther!”

Five turned around to see Luther walking into the room, bags of groceries in his hands. 

“Five, Klaus, hey,” Luther said, placing the bags onto the kitchen table. Then he stumbled to the side when Five stepped up beside him in a flash of blue. 

“Didn’t expect to see you already out of bed,” Luther continued, eyes widening as Five tore into the bags, looking for coffee.

Five made a face, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response. In the second bag, he dug out a jar of instant coffee, and smiled, throwing it once in the air before he jumped back to the kitchen counter, and started the process of brewing it.

“Good to see you too, I guess,” Luther mumbled from behind him. The sound of rustling started up again as he began sorting the detritus that Five had left behind.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Five said by way of greeting.

“Oh hey, peanut butter cups,” Klaus chirped.

“Hey! That’s Allison’s!” Luther said.

There was the sound of a small scuffle which Five ignored. By the time he turned around again, and sat down with his food and coffee, Klaus was back to being slumped on a kitchen chair, and Luther had migrated to the pantry, where he was restocking the shelves.

Just as he began to eat, Allison also walked into the room with shopping bags in her hands. 

“Oh hey, Five.” Allison said, lighting up when she saw him at the table.

“Allison,” Five nodded, and then kept eating.

“Good thing you’re here, I was just about to go find you.” Allison said, putting her bags down on the table at the exact same spot where Luther had put the groceries earlier. Then, she turned to Luther. “Hey, did you get the peanut butter cups I asked for?”

Luther, who had turned around with a dumb smile, pulled the slightly rumpled packet out of his pocket.

There was an uncomfortable moment of extended eye contact between Allison and Luther as the chocolate changed hands. Five ignored his siblings, and instead studied Allison’s bags, vaguely curious. They weren’t grocery bags, and were multicolored with brand names across them that didn’t mean much to Five. Klaus was already poking at them in fascination.

Slipping her chocolate into her pocket, Allison turned around and then frowned at the sight of Klaus. 

“Klaus, that's not for you,” Allison said, stepping in to slap her brother’s probing hands away. Klaus moved back, grumbling, as Allison turned to Five. “Five, I got you some changes of clothes. What do you think?”

As she spoke, she pulled out a soft looking sweater from one of the bags. It was a similar blue to his old uniform, but had an interesting, understated ribbing pattern decorating it. Five paused his eating, staring in surprise. He glanced over the bags again, uncertainty fluttering in his chest. Did she-? Were all those-?

Five put down his knife and fork, and then walked around to Allison, taking the sweater from her hand curiously. He held it up to his own shoulders, measuring the size. It was perfect. The knitted fabric was soft and light, but felt incredibly warm against his fingers. 

For a moment, he was reminded of the box the Handler had gifted him, that day at the Commission. _Clothes make the man_. He’d never had the chance to wear it, not that he could trust any gift the Handler gave him.

Five looked back at Allison, feeling vaguely bewildered by the unexpected thoughtfulness, to find her smiling at him with a soft look in her eyes. 

“I got your measurements from your old uniform," Allison said, "and since you’re not actually a Sparrow, I thought you might like some clothes of your own. Do you like it?”

“It’s not bad,” Five said, putting the sweater down.

“I thought you’d probably want to dress your age, so I went for more mature pieces.” Allison said. 

Five watched as Allison pulled articles of clothing from her bags. 

“And, uh, you’ll have to forgive me because I sort of went a little overboard?” Allison laughed softly. “I’ve always loved clothes shopping for Claire, so I couldn’t help myself.”

There were collared shirts and sweaters, underclothes, coats, jeans, pajamas, as well as a pair of black boots and black dress shoes in his size. When Allison was finally done, there was a rainbow of empty bags cluttered at her feet, and small piles of clothes spread out in front of her.

Five, Luther, and Klaus, all stared, wide-eyed and silent, as Allison finally stepped back, and looked at Five with a bright-eyed smile.

“So,” Allison said. “What do you think?”

Five didn’t know what he was feeling. Some sort of faint embarrassment swirled inside of him at the attention. Surprise, at the unexpectedness of the gifts. But more than that, another feeling he couldn’t name, soft and small and delicate, had taken root somewhere deep inside. 

There was something enchanting about the spread of clothes on offer in front of him. Five ran his fingers over the smooth fabric of a folded black coat, feeling the fine material, before he picked it up, and shook it out.

It wasn’t a trench coat like he’d expected, though the material was similar. Instead, the cut was slim and stylish - an overcoat with a long open collar, its length falling to mid-way down his thigh. It felt sturdy and durable, like it could survive in a fight.

_He liked it_.

Five slung the coat over his arm, and then picked out a few more pieces, fresh underclothes, a white collared shirt, the first navy blue sweater he’d picked up, and dark jeans, as well as the black boots. Then, without saying a word, he jumped into the nearest bathroom to change.

  
  


-

  
  


A few minutes later, Five jumped back into the kitchen in his new outfit, and put down the folded Sparrow Academy costume, as well as Elliot's shoes, down on the table in front of him.

Allison was putting away the clothing back into the bags, and Luther and Klaus were in mid-conversation, saying something about chickpeas, of all things. All three of them jumped when Five reappeared, and then started staring at him with wide-eyes.

“Thanks, Allison,” Five said, feeling oddly-self conscious as he sat back down and picked up his cutlery again. “It was very kind of you.”

For a moment, there was silence, as his siblings continued to stare at him dumbly.

  
“You have good taste.” Five added as an afterthought, taking a bite of his cooling omelette.

“You know, somehow he looks even more like a little monster when he’s not in a uniform,” Klaus mused, eyes narrowed. “He reminds me of one of those preppy, private school types, you know? I almost feel like he’s about to make fun of my clothes because they’re too cheap or something.”

“Shut up, Klaus,” Five said. And then, just to annoy his brother: “Also, you look like you crawled out of a dumpster.”

“And there it is,” Klaus sighed, pressing a gummy bear into his mouth. He was _still_ cradling that packet. Five almost felt like he should be concerned with how many of those Klaus had eaten. 

Allison laughed, and she was positively beaming when she spoke to Five. “I think you look pretty good.”

“This is really weird,” said Luther, who was still staring at Five with a deep frown on his face. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear anything that isn’t a gown or a uniform in the entire time you’ve been back.”

“Well, the uniform is not exactly an option anymore,” Five said as he polished off the last of his food. He wasn’t going to point out that Luther had technically seen him in his pajamas, the morning after he passed out from blood loss. That was something best forgotten by all of them.

Luther, still staring at him, suddenly frowned. “Five, what’s wrong with your face?” 

“That’s just how he looks, Luther, don’t be insensitive,” Klaus chimed.

Five froze, glancing up in alarm. There was a bruise forming at the corner of his brow bone from where one of Diego’s punches had landed, but right now it was just a patch of slightly swollen skin. It shouldn’t be obvious just yet.

“Oh,” Allison’s voice was soft and surprised, and she was also staring at Five again. “Wait, Five, did someone _punch_ you?”

“Oh shit,” Klaus breathed. “I see it.”

“How-” Five dropped his fork, and stared around at his siblings, uncomprehending. “How the hell can you even tell?”

“Remember when you were like, half dead?” Klaus said, his voice weirdly ominous as he regarded Five, chin resting on his palm. “We spent a lot of time watching you.”

Five barely suppressed a shudder. “Okay, well that’s creepy.” Did none of them just read a book or something, if they had nothing better to do?

“Who attacked you?” Allison said, her voice urgent. “Was it someone from the Sparrow Academy?”

“Is the Commission back?” said Luther.

“No one attacked me,” Five sighed as he took a sip of his coffee, luxuriating in the familiar, bitter taste of it. The instant stuff was shit but at least it reminded him of the real thing. “And the Commission is not back, as far as I am aware.”

“Then how the hell did you get injured?” Klaus said.

With monumentally poor timing, it was in that moment that Diego walked into the kitchen.

Five glanced at Diego in surprise, staring for perhaps a moment too long, his mug at his lips, as Diego mumbled a ‘hey’ at the rest of them and then went straight to the sink to fill up a glass of water.

“It’s none of your business,” Five said, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Five, didn’t we just talk about this whole communication thing?” Luther sighed.

“And I have taken your words under advisement,” Five said, putting down his mug. “That being said, it’s none of your damn business.” He offered Luther a threatening smile.

Allison, who had given Five advice on finding Diego that morning, was looking between Five and Diego with an increasingly suspicious expression.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Diego said, turning around from the sink, cup of water in hand. “But I’m on Luther’s side.”

Five glared at him to shut up.

“What was all of that you said about wanting to be a better brother literally this morning, Five?” Diego continued, with no regard for his own life. “You keeping secrets again?”

“Wait, he said that?” Klaus said gleefully.

“You fucking idiot,” Five muttered, rolling his eyes.

Diego’s face twisted in confusion.

“Well you know you’re definitely in the wrong when both Luther and Diego are on the same side,” Klaus said. “Come on, Fivey, no more secrets.”

“And don’t make up some story like you tripped and fell, or something,” Allison said. “I know a bruise from a fight when I see it.”

Diego’s eyes widened as it dawned on him what he’d just done.

“I don’t know,” Five mused, dragging out the words he pretended to consider Allison’s words. “Diego, wanna tell them?”

“Uh…” Diego hesitated. “What exactly are we grilling Five about?”

“The bruise on his face!” Luther said, gesturing at Five, who smiled sweetly back at him. “Don’t you see it?”

“Right.” Diego said, then fell silent. 

There was a second of silence, as everyone but Five stared expectantly at Diego.

“Holy shit,” Allison was the first to connect the dots. “Diego, was that _you_?”

“Hey, he was the one who came at me!” Diego said.

“Well, Diego's right.” Five said, then nodded toward said brother. “You deserved it.”

“You _know_ his body is thirteen!” said Allison.

“Diego, what were you thinking?” Luther exploded.

Klaus was staring between Five and Diego with wide eyes.

Five frowned, now that he was here to see it, Diego’s earlier words about his siblings’ treatment of him were starting to make more sense.

“I don’t know, Luther,” Diego said, throwing up his arms. “I was a little bit too busy _defending myself_ from this tiny psychopath over here.”

Allison turned toward Five, disbelief on her face. “Did you really attack Diego?” 

“I did,” Five said, and then shrugged. “It was the easiest way to sort out our differences.”

For a moment, both Allison and Luther gaped at him in disbelief. Klaus looked absolutely delighted, and was popping gummy bears like popcorn as his shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“Of course you did,” Luther sighed.

Diego just shrugged. “I did sort of deserve it.”

“I can believe that,” Allison muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Diego.

“Aw… look at all this sibling love.” Klaus smiled, a glint in his eyes.

“Why are you two mad at Diego?” Five said. “You know he has more bruises from the fight than I do, right?”

“No I don’t,” Diego said automatically.

“Liar,” Five said. 

“You wanna go again?” Diego snapped.

On his chair, Klaus started wriggling around with a weird frown, like something was digging into him.

Five smiled dangerously at Diego, daring his brother to piss him off again.

“Oh hey, guys?” Klaus said suddenly, waving something he had just dug out of his pocket. “I found a pack of cards, do you guys wanna play?”

  
  


-

  
  


They played cards.

Specifically, Texas hold ‘em with candy as the chips. Klaus wanted Allison’s peanut butter cups, Allison wanted Klaus to stop eating all the candy, Diego wanted to beat Five at something, and Five thought helping Allison get what she wanted wouldn’t be a bad way to say thank you. Luther, on the other hand, seemed to just want to have fun. 

Then, when Luther won the first hand somehow, Klaus called shenanigans, which was upheld by everyone else present, so a new hand had to be dealt. Then, Vanya showed up half way into the second hand, and they had to play a new round with her as well so she wouldn’t feel left out.

Five, for some reason, couldn’t seem to extricate himself from the rest of his family. And before anyone knew it, it was dinnertime, and they had to play another round to decide who got to choose what food to order. Klaus won, and then demanded pizza while Diego complained about all the ways it was bad for them. 

By the time the food arrived, Allison had all of the candy in the kitchen. And then, Five was being dragged to the entertainment room where Luther decided to put on a movie. Then, by the time he’d finished eating, Five was already invested in the story, so he couldn’t just up and leave. The plot was weirdly engaging, even if none of the scientific explanations made any sense whatsoever.

Five said as much, repeatedly, calling out the nonsensical plot holes and misrepresentation of several theoretical concepts, until Diego started throwing popcorn at him telling him to shut up. Then, Allison stepped in to explain the behind the scenes filmmaking techniques, which made the movie somewhat bearable again.

After the movie finished, they discovered that the film had a _sequel_ , and in a moment of self-destructive whimsy, Five agreed to watch it, wondering just how much worse the sequel could be. Even if Klaus insisted that it was actually quite good.

Five never found out. Barely twenty minutes into the second movie, he fell asleep on the couch.

  
  


-

  
  


When Five woke up again, it was the middle of the night, and the room was dark and quiet. Vanya was asleep, stretched out on the other couch nearby. Someone, at some point, had put a blanket over Five.

Five stared sleepily at it for a moment, before he pulled it tighter over his shoulders, and went back to sleep.

  
  


-

  
  


Five woke up the next morning to the realization that he’d wasted the entire evening, and arguably the whole previous day. Though he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret the time he’d spent with his siblings, it did set him back in his plans significantly. Reginald would be back the next day, and Five still had too much to investigate and think about. 

As his first order of business, Five tracked down Luther and Diego and finally had conversations with them both to get the information he wanted. He had gotten bits and pieces the night before, but each time he tried to focus the topic would get derailed by his other siblings, Klaus in particular. Both his brothers, when cornered and alone, however, were much more forthcoming about the particulars Five was after. Eventually, he got the full details about their actions in 1963, as well as what they knew of the new timeline, as well as the Sparrow Academy.

Five’s siblings hadn’t spent as much time as Five would have liked on investigating their changed circumstances. But they had been awake for much longer than he had, and with the clock ticking on Reginald’s return, Five knew it was a more efficient use of his time to interrogate them instead of retreading the ground that his siblings had likely already walked. Combining the knowledge of all five of them, there were more than enough useful pieces for Five to attempt solving the puzzles before him. 

Five spent most of the day in his room, working on various calculations and estimations to try and pinpoint the most significant changes to the timeline. But most importantly, he wanted to refine his ability to rewind time, and avoid any repeats of the incident which had almost killed him. This new application of his power was far too useful for him to ignore, and increased his family’s survivability significantly. So he had to master it, one way or another.

Sometime in the late afternoon, there was a knock at Five’s door. Five, sitting cross-legged on the bed with a notebook, looked up from his writing to find Allison standing in the doorway.

“Am I… interrupting something?” Allison said, staring at the papers spread across the bed and the floor with a look of wide-eyed alarm.

Five had started and then abandoned a few lines of inquiry over the hours, and had gotten sick of flipping back and forth in his book. It was easier to have them laid out in order, and accessible for reference.

“Yes,” Five said, quickly jotting down the next parts of his working. “But I may be able to spare a moment, depending on what it is that you want.

Five glanced up again, and tapped his pencil absently against the paper. If this was going to be about the bathroom thing, he might just close the door in Allison’s face. 

“Well,” Allison made a face. “I’m about to call Claire, and I was wondering if you wanted to say hi to her.”

_Claire_? Five froze in surprise. He _did_ want to talk to his niece. Though he was suddenly keenly aware that he had minimal experience interacting with children - at least in any way that meant the kids liked him in the end. And he _did_ want Claire to like him. 

But it couldn’t be that hard, could it?

“Alright, I’ll speak with her.” Five said, after a moment’s thought.

“Great,” Allison smiled. “Come on, we’ll use the phone downstairs.”

Putting his notebook aside, Five hopped off the bed and followed Allison through the house, and then watched as she dialled the number, and then started talking to her ex-husband on the other end. Before long, a smile broke across her face as his daughter came on the line. For a little while, she chatted with Claire, asking her about her day and her plans, and telling her a little about what she was doing herself. Then, she started darting glances at Five.

Five stepped forward, uncertain.

“Hey, sweetie? I also have someone else here to talk to you,” Allison said, looking over at Five with a smile. “Do you want to guess who it is?”

On the other end, Claire said something, and Allison chuckled. “Yes, it is one of your uncles. Can you guess which one?”

Five stood there nervously as Allison kept talking to her daughter, gently guiding her with more clues until she figured out that it was none other than time-travelling Number Five waiting to speak to her.

Then, Allison passed the receiver to Five with a smile. Five held it up to his ear, heart thumping in his chest.

“Hello?” Five said.

“Hello,” a small voice said from the other end. “Are you my Uncle Five?”

“Yes, that’s me,” Five said, feeling just a little bit helpless, “and you must be Claire. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You don’t sound very old, Mummy said you’re an old man.”

Five carefully thought about his words. “Well, that’s because when I time travelled, I accidentally made myself younger. So now my body is thirteen again.”

“So why don’t you just travel again and make yourself big?”

“Well…” Five paused. “That’s an excellent question. I suppose it’s because I haven’t really had the time to do the maths again.”

He glanced over at Allison, not sure how long the conversation was supposed to go for. Allison just grinned at him and nodded encouragingly.

“Oooh, I get it. I wouldn’t want to do maths either.” Claire said, before abruptly switching tracks. “Are you coming to visit me with Mum?”

Five paused. _Allison was leaving?_

“No, I’m afraid not,” Five said, feeling stupid that he hadn’t thought of it sooner. Of course, Allison must be missing her daughter like crazy.

They exchanged a few more words, before Allison gently nudged him to hand back the receiver. Five said his goodbyes, and passed the phone over to Allison so she could finish talking with her daughter.

As Allison finished her conversation, Five stood nearby and waited, mulling over what he had just learned. He couldn’t have his family scattering into the world again, though he had no good reason right now to stop them from doing so if they wanted. Maybe if he found a way to delay them? But how?

“I think she likes you,” Allison said, once she had finally hung up after saying goodbye about a dozen times.

Five glanced over at her, surprised. He had never expected he’d one day come to desire the approval of a child, but now that he had it, it felt sort of nice.

“She seems like a cool kid,” Five said.

“Well, she has a pretty cool mum, so,” Allison smiled.

Five nodded, a soft smile flickering across his face. “Your daughter... she said that you were going back to see her.” 

“Right,” Allison nodded, looking slightly guilty. “I was going to tell you about that.”

“So you’re leaving?” Five said, not quite meaning to sound quite as accusatory as he did.

“Well, yeah,” Allison shrugged with a small smile. “Since you’re recovered now, and there’s no more apocalypse, I thought it was about time I went to see her.” 

A wistful expression crossed Allison’s face, then, something sad and forlorn that Five didn’t like. 

Five thought that maybe, he understood. In those first few years in the apocalypse, he had thought about his siblings every single day. There had been nothing he wouldn’t have given just to be back home with his family again. It might not quite be the same thing, but perhaps it was similar. 

“When are you leaving?” Five said gently.

“The day after tomorrow,” Allison smiled. “You know, you’re welcome to come with me, if you like. It’s probably not too late to get a ticket.”

Five blinked. “To see Claire?”

“Yeah,” Allison nodded. “I’m sure she’d love to meet you in person. I invited Luther too, and he’s said yes.”

“I’ll… think about it,” Five said, not wanting to make any promises he couldn’t keep. “Are you going to speak with Dad before you leave?”

Once Five had spoken with Reginald, he hoped he’d know his next step.

Allison shrugged, unenthused. “Only if I can’t avoid it. I mean, I definitely have questions for him, but if our dinner was anything to go by, I doubt we’re going to get any meaningful answers. I just…” Allison’s expression shifted into something miserable. “I’m so desperate to see my daughter, Five. I know it hasn’t been that long for her, but for me, it’s been years. I just… want to hold her again”

Five nodded. “I understand.”

Allison laughed weakly. “I just hope Patrick can stay civil when I drop by. God, I have no idea what our relationship is like in this timeline.”

Five frowned, a surge of protectiveness rising up in him. “What do you mean?”

Allison glanced at Five, surprise, then realization crossing her face.

“Right, I guess you wouldn’t know.” she said, hesitant. “Patrick and I are divorced, and he… doesn’t exactly think I’m the best mother. Or didn’t, I suppose, I’m not quite sure, this time around.”

“Why would he think you’re a bad mother?” Five said, not quite able to believe Allison’s words. Everything he’s seen from Allison told him that there was nothing else she cared about more than her daughter.

“I… may have used my power, on Claire,” Allison said, hesitant, her face darkening with shame. She crossed her arms, shrinking in on herself. “She used to have these… crazy meltdowns where she wouldn’t listen to anything I say. And then one time I just… I snapped. And I rumored her to stop. It was supposed to be just the one time, but… it wasn’t. Eventually, Patrick found out. He saw me rumor Claire into going to sleep, and… well, that was it.”

Allison fell silent, shoulders slumped, head hung, like she was waiting for some sort of punishment.

Five, however, only felt confused. “If that’s the worst you did, that hardly makes you a bad parent.”

Allison glanced up at him, disbelief in her eyes. “What?”

Allison clearly regretted her decisions, and that made sense, if it had been what cost her her marriage. But the way she reacted, as though she was confused that someone could not think of her actions as evil, made no sense to Five at all.

“Was it morally questionable? Certainly. But all you did was save yourself a- What? Twenty minute argument? To get to where you would have gotten to anyway. You were making sure that your child could fulfil one of her most basic, essential needs. It wasn’t like you were rumoring her into not hungry so you wouldn’t have to feed her.”

“What- no,” Allison said, looking appalled for a moment at the suggestion Five had offered. “I should _never_ have rumored her, Five. She was just doing what kids _do_ , I didn’t have any right to _control_ her like that. How would you feel if I rumored you to go back to bed and sleep?”

“My immediate instinct would be to kill you, but you know what? I’d get over it.” Five said with a shrug. He really didn’t understand why this was such a big deal for Allison. “You’ve rumored the rest of us to do worse when you were a kid. When we were nine, you rumored me to throw myself out the third floor window.”

All Five remembered was that he had said something stupid and probably judgemental, and Allison had been furious. Five might be dead right now if he hadn’t jumped to safety before he hit the ground.

“I-” Allison sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I ever did that. Alright? But I wasn’t exactly nine when I rumored my own daughter, Five.”

No, there had to be a way to make Allison understand. The point was that she shouldn’t _be_ ashamed.

“That's my point, Allison. Your ex-husband _knew_ who he married,” Five said. “Claire _knows_ who her mother is. Your power is part of who you are. They’ve always known what you’re capable of, who you really are inside. And you clearly care about them, you are not a bad person.”

“Five, you don’t understand,” Allison sighed, rubbing her temples. “Patrick, Claire, they _trusted me_. Look, when I married Patrick, I made him a promise that I would never use my power on him, or on our children. And I _betrayed_ that trust.”

“Then he clearly should never have asked that of you,” Five said, not understanding why Allison wasn’t getting it. “That doesn’t sound like he _loved you_ , that sounds like he was _scared of you_.”

Hurt, then fury flashed in Allison’s eyes, and Five instantly knew he fucked up. 

“Five, you have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” Allison said, voice low as she stepped forward. “What do you even know about love, about marriage? Do you have any idea the type of compromise, the amount of effort that it takes to make a relationship work? No, you have no idea what you’re talking about, do you? The closest relationship you’ve ever had was with a _stupid mannequin_!”

Five stepped back, struck speechless by the force of Allison’s anger, and the tears in her eyes. Only then did he realize how cruel his words had been, suggesting to Allison that her ex-husband had never loved her, that he’d only ever been afraid of her. But it was too late to take his words back, he-

He had to test it again sooner or later.

Stumbling back a few more steps, Five pulled at his powers, feeling time and space vibrating around him as the seconds began to move in reverse. He watched as Allison swallowed her speech, and the anger and hurt in her eyes faded back to confusion. 

There was a pulse of blue light as time reset around Five.

“Never use the power on h-” Allison jumped, blinking as Five reappeared several feet behind where he was before. “Five?”

“I just- let me try this again,” Five said, his gaze flickering as he tried to find the right words, this time around.

Confusion, then realization, flickered across Allison’s face. “Wait. Did you just-”

“Look, Allison, I know you made a promise.” Five said. 

Speaking for someone else had been his mistake last time. So he had to avoid it, this time around. If he just… told her everything as he saw it. 

“But the thing is,” Five continued. “You _shouldn’t have had to_.”

He looked up, and saw Allison was staring at him, wide-eyed with shock.

“The people we love- The people who love us, they shouldn’t ask us to be anything less than who we are.” Five said. He couldn’t even imagine the idea of sacrificing such an intrinsic part of his own self just to be accepted by others. “Yes, our powers can be dangerous if we’re irresponsible with it, but _everyone_ has the power to hurt others around them. There are people out there every day doing cruel and terrible things, and they don’t even have anything like the type of power we do. Asking your child to not have a meltdown or go to bed at a reasonable time isn’t some sort of _sin_ , Allison. Just because you have an advantage that others don’t doesn’t mean using it is _wrong._ ”

Allison, shaken by his words, said nothing as she stared at him.

“Our powers are not a curse for us to bury.” Five continued. “Being scared of it, hiding from it, you’ve seen it can do to us. Look at Klaus, look at Vanya. Hell, look at me.”

“You use your powers more than any of us, Five.”

“Spatial jumps, perhaps.” Five said. “But when I was thirteen I was just a dumb kid who should have listened to my betters. When I got stuck in the future, I was… so _terrified_ of my ability to time travel, that I didn’t dare to use it again for over forty-five years. I obsessed over finding the perfect equation instead of experimenting with my own powers, testing my own limits. If I had, it may not have even taken me nearly half as long to get back to all of you.”

Allison blinked, her expression shifting as she thought about his words.

“You’re a good person, Allison,” Five said. “And a good mother. For all of Dad’s faults, he raised us to be heroes, to be responsible, to know what’s right. I’ve always believed in the seven of us. And you know that I am almost never wrong. We are not who we are _despite_ our powers, Allison. Our powers _make us who we are_. And if your daughter truly loves you, she would understand that, and so should whoever it is you choose to marry.” 

“You know, you make it sound so easy?” Allison laughed, but there was something pained in her eyes. “I-I know you mean well, Five. But you haven’t been here, Five. You have seen the things I’ve had to deal with, the consequences of what happens when things go wrong.”

It was Five’s turn to fall silent. She was right, he hadn’t been here, there had to have been things he’d never seen.

“Do you know why Vanya hurt me? How I ended up on the floor of that cabin with my throat slit?”

Five shook his head.

“I tried to rumor her.” Allison said. “I saw that she had no control over her powers and I decided for her that the best way to resolve the problem was to convince her she didn’t have powers again. That is the type of decision that I apparently make when I face something alone.”

Five hadn’t known that. He’d never expected- No wonder Vanya reacted the way she did.

“And then in 1963, when I was showing my powers to Raymond, I… I lost control,” Allison continued. “There was this white diner owner who was… so _rude_ and _despicable_. And when I used my power on him? I forced him to pour me coffee until his hands were scalded raw.”

Five hadn’t known that. Though now that Allison admitted it, he could see how it could happen. In a moment of anger, or rage, any of them could lose control.

“Five, you can say what you do because ninety-nine percent of the time, your power affects only yourself,” Allison continued. “But my powers affect other _people_ , people right in front of me, and I can’t afford to get that wrong because when I _do_ , people get _hurt_. I can’t- I can’t always trust myself to do the right thing like you say I can.”

“Allison…”

“Back in 1963, if I had been alone, if Raymond hadn’t been there to stop me-”

But she didn’t have to be alone. None of them had to be alone, anymore. They had each other now, wasn’t that the whole point of this, coming back? Saving his family so they’d all get a second chance at all of this?

_Did you think that maybe they needed your help?_ Luther had said. _Our help?_

“You have us, Allison.” Five said. “If you ever need one of us to be there, just say something. You’re not alone.”

Allison fell silent, and studied him for a moment, something gentle, yet unreadable, in her eyes.

Then, she smiled gently. “And what about you, Five? Would you be there if I asked?”

“I...” Five hesitated. He didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep. “I’ll do my best.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a start,” Allison said, her eyes as soft as her smile.

  
  


-

  
  


Early on the following day, Reginald returned home from his travels. Five was there in the gallery overlooking the foyer, watching as Reginald walked through the door, suitcase in hand. 

Five gave it one hour before he knocked on the door of his father’s study.

“Did I not say I was not to be disturbed?” Reginald’s voice sounded from inside the room, thrumming with a familiar fury.

“It’s me, Number Five,” Five said. He’d have just jumped through the closed door if he wasn’t trying to be polite. “I believe you were interested in speaking with me?”

There was a pause, and then, his father spoke again. “You may enter.”

Five pushed the door handle, and then resisted a sigh when he found it was still locked. He jumped inside.

Five stepped out in the middle of the study, facing Reginald’s desk. The painting on the wall had changed, Five noted, and though it was still identifiably Reginald’s portrait, the style was even more abstract than Five remembered. But for the most part, the study still looked the same, even if minor details were different. The emblem of the Sparrow Academy was everywhere in the house now, Five had yet to get used to it.

Reginald Hargreeves, still wearing that familiar monocle, yet significantly older than the last time Five had seen him, sat with his hands folded upon his desk.

As they came face to face, Reginald looked Five up and down, a curious glint in his eye.

“You are back on your feet sooner than I expected,” said Reginald.

“Let’s just say I had a bit of help,” Five replied, a polite smile on his face.

Something considered passed behind Reginald’s eyes. “Your siblings have bonded with the Sparrow Academy rather quickly.”

A statement instead of a question, this was definitely the Reginald Five remembered.

“Unfortunately, not… quite,” Five said. “I don’t believe they’ve had the chance to tell you about your visitor from another time?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Reginald said, something faintly unimpressed in his tone.

There was a bar cart in the corner of the room, laden with crystal bottles of dark liquid. Five eyed it, feeling a hint of thirst.

“May I?” Five said, gesturing toward the bottles.

Reginald inclined his head in permission, and then watched as Five approached the cart, and started examining the offerings.

“By the way, I don’t know if you still remember,” Five said as he poured himself a finger of whiskey. “But thanks for the tip about small scale time travel. It turned out to be quite useful in the end.”

Five saw the merit now, with the benefit of hindsight, in the measured training regimes Reginald had devised. He didn’t know when, if ever, his father would have permitted him to time travel if he had stayed, but he imagined it would have started small, in the same way. If he hadn’t run away, perhaps he wouldn’t have spent decades of his life being too scared of his own power to realize his true potential.

“I do recall saying something along those lines,” Reginald said. “Would you care to share what happened?”

“Well, like you said, a lot could change in a matter of seconds.” Five said, returning to stand before Reginald, drink in hand. “Empires fall, one falls in love... or sometimes, they die.”

For a moment, Reginald was silent as he considered Five’s words. “I see, an useful application.”

“Unfortunately, I did still botch it,” Five’s smile was pained. “Thus the display in the parlor upon my arrival. My apologies for the scene, and the inconvenience of it all.”

“I suppose that is one way to put it,” Reginald stated. “I do admit, I was hesitant to help you.”

The others had mentioned to him what had happened. Allison, in particular, had been furious still, cursing how cold-hearted their father was. Vanya had made a comment about how impressive Luther’s speech to Reginald had been.

“Well, I am grateful for your choice to do so, regardless.” Five said. “I can understand the concern when my family is known to be the cause of multiple apocalypses.”

“Considering the fact that I almost allowed you to die, you’re taking this quite well.” Reginald observed.

Five had been disappointed, but hardly surprised, when he’d learned the details of his father’s response. 

“Well, when you’ve been chasing a way to prevent the apocalypse for as long as I have, it does tend to rearrange your values, somewhat.” Five said. “If our positions were reversed I’m not sure what decision I would have made. The fate of the world is more important than a single life, after all.”

“A rather utilitarian view.” Reginald stated, something almost… approving, in his tone.

“Well, someone in the family has to be the pragmatist.” Five said. Though he was glad Vanya was alive, if it had been him with the gun, that night on the stage, he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill her.

Though having seen what she could do with her powers, Five doubted the bullet would have done its job.

“Not that I don’t find this conversation diverting,” Reginald said, “what is it that you wish to discuss with me exactly, Number Five?”

“Oh?” Five feigned surprise. “And here I thought you were the one who wished to speak with my family.”

“I can’t help but notice that your siblings are not here with you.”

Five smiled. “Well, I thought we may both benefit from sharing a grown up conversation, before the children get involved.”

Reginald tilted his head, in an unspoken agreement. 

Five’s father, whether intentionally or not, had been somewhat helpful, if unforthcoming, the last time they’d spoken. Five harbored the hope that he might receive some sort of insight that would help him navigate the weeks to come. Though perhaps, he’d have to convince Reginald first.

Five decided to drop the small talk.

“How long have you been working with the Commission?” Five said.

“Excuse me?”

“The _sparrow_. The symbol of your new academy? I used to work for them, you know?” 

It was one of the Commission symbols, stamped on paperwork and supplies, used to signal dead-drop locations. The Sparrow Academy might as well be named after the Temps Commission, with how obvious the connection was. The Commission’s new leadership had clearly seen the wisdom in nurturing their own merry band of superpowered agents.

“You speak as though I am required to explain or justify any of my decisions to you.” Reginald said.

His father hadn’t started mocking him. For Reginald, that was as good as conceding that Five’s theory had been correct.

“No, I suppose you don’t.” Five said, considering the amber liquid in his tumbler. 

Reginald hadn’t given them what they wanted the first time around, even though Five knew, from what he’d heard in the consulate, that his father had known far more than he’d let on. Simply demanding answers the way Diego had would never work with their father. No, the Reginald Five had spoken to enjoyed more grandiose, intellectual games, he liked his sweeping statements and calculated judgements - perhaps as much as he enjoyed verbally eviscerating those he deemed lesser than him.

“Then how about this,” Five said, looking up at Reginald.

If Five wanted to get anything out of his father, then he had to play things his way.

“I will share my theory with you, and you can tell me if I’m wrong,” Five continued, before muttering. “You always did enjoy doing that.”

Reginald leaned back, and said nothing. Five took it as tacit permission to speak. 

“This timeline is clearly not the same as we remember it, the actions of myself and my family in the 1960s have rippled out in ways I have no easy way to predict.” Five said. “Of course, there’s always the possibility that we’ve crossed over into some parallel universe - a notion I’d entertain more seriously if it hadn’t been for the fact that we’d used a Commission briefcase to return to the present. Barring a major malfunction, those briefcases are fixed to the one specific timeline that the organization is obsessive about rehabilitating. And I took all available precautions to ensure that the chances of such a malfunction would be infinitesimal. So. Same timeline, but deeply changed.”

Reginald watched him, a spark of curiosity in his eyes as he followed the line of Five’s logic. Barring his ill-advised attempt to time travel in his youth, Five’s logic had always been a point of pride for him. It had been the one thing that Five had excelled at, assessing risks and probability, finding the connections between patterns. Reginald didn’t confirm or deny Five’s extrapolations, and that in itself was promising, because it meant he was _invested_ in Five’s thinking, and taking the bait.

“The very existence of the Sparrow Academy is evidence that _something_ , perhaps everything you saw of us in 1963, convinced you to deviate from your original plans. To implement new contingencies, make the _second best choice,_ everything to change the odds in your favor. Perhaps a different, or additional, set of children, an alternate training approach, a relationship with a new ally, one of these things might just tip the scales and finally get you what you want.” 

Five’s confidence in his words only came from the fact that this would have been his same reaction, had he gone through the same experiences as his father. Perhaps ironically, he and Reginald had ended up the most alike - proud, pragmatic, rational. And it meant he understood Reginald better than he would have liked. More than anything, Five understood the drive to achieve one specific purpose, no matter the cost.

“So, a deal with the Commission. Maybe they gave you the leads to track down the right children. Or maybe they kidnapped them for you to save you some effort. And in exchange for a second chance to make a better team of superheroes, all you have to do is wear their symbols and maybe do some of their dirty work.” Five paused for a moment, taking a sip of his drink before he continued. “And the fact of this is interesting to me, because the Commission’s stance has always been that the apocalypse is _meant_ to happen, that it _had_ to happen. While the one thing you instilled in all of us growing up was that we were supposed to _prevent it_. So, have you simply changed your mind about stopping the apocalypse? Or is your alliance simply a matter of convenience? Are you simply biding your time until you have the upper hand, until you’re in the position to betray them?”

It was what Five had done, after all, when he’d agreed to work for the Commission and be their assassin. 

Reginald looked, if nothing else, vaguely _entertained_ by the monologue Five had launched himself into. Predictably, he treated Five’s questions as though they were rhetorical, and perhaps they were. Reginald almost never gave away information unless there was the chance it benefited him personally, somehow. 

At Five’s pause, his father tilted his head, as though motioning for him to continue.

So Five did.

“I must admit I’m not entirely sure what you’ve done with us,” Five said, directing his gaze out the window to the cloudy sky beyond. He didn’t quite want to reveal the fact that they were all gaining memories from the new timeline just yet. “But I know that all of our parents were willing to sell us for the cash you offered, and you must have known, if not from the moment you found yourself with seven infants, then at least from the moment our powers manifested, that we would grow up to be the very same people to cause an apocalypse in 2019, and later wreak havoc in the 60s. And since all of us still exist as similar versions of ourselves, it meant that we were trained, that we were kept together. _Maybe_ -” Five lifted his tumbler in Reginald’s direction. “You gave us to the Commission, who turned us into their own agents. Or perhaps you raised us elsewhere else, in secret.”

Five had no way to know how much of his words were correct, but Reginald’s gaze upon him was considered. He wasn’t laughing or scoffing at him, hadn’t yet launched into a derisive rant to inform him of his conceit. So Five continued to speak.

“But the thing is, you already knew who we’d become in the future, you knew our interests would remain aligned, that we’d care enough about the world to try and prevent the end of it. The details of what happened to get us there didn’t matter. Different equations can still lead to the same outcome, after all.”

Reginald still hadn’t refuted him, hadn’t interrupted with ridicule or chastised him for wasting his time, and that felt significant. 

“Nothing in the past matters, in the grand scheme of things,” Five said softly, “compared with what’s to come.”

“What exactly makes you say a thing like that?” Reginald spoke again. 

His father had never been easy to read, but right now, Five saw what he thought might be grudging respect from the man in front of him. It wasn’t quite confirmation, but it felt enough like vindication. Five’s lips twitched with what was almost a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five: what do you call this feeling when someone does something nice for you that you didn’t expect?  
> Luther: is it… gratitude?  
> Five: is THAT what it feels like?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And look at that! We made it to the final chapter. I can't believe I wrote 65k in 3 weeks, but I guess anything can happen. I did it. I am finally free.
> 
> Another massive thank you to each of you who left a comment, you should know that nothing has changed and I still appreciate each and every one of them.
> 
> Unbetaed as per usual, I hope you enjoy the end.

In the end, Five got few useful things out of the old man, but plenty to think about. Though he had few definitive answers, there was enough for him to plan his next step. Allison and Luther wouldn’t be leaving until the next day, and it gave him time to work something out.

It was never going to stop being weird, knowing how similar the two of them were. He and his father shared the same logical, methodical ways of thinking. It was what gave Five any sort of confidence in estimating what Reginald had done in the decades since their meeting in 1963, and also what enabled them to almost get along. The one key difference though, was that Five still wasn’t quite sure that his father was capable of feeling. Five, on the other hand, felt far too many things than he would have liked.

Five walked down the hallway, resisting a yawn. He’d stayed up all night to work on his estimations and to refine his powers, preparing himself for the conversation that had just taken place. Briefly, he considered rewinding back the last few minutes and trying a different approach to see if it’d net him any better information. 

Passing the stairwell, Five glanced toward the sound of approaching footsteps to find Klaus coming up the stairs. Upon seeing him, Klaus lit up and called his name, and then ran up the last few steps until he was in front of Five.

“There you are!” Klaus grinned at him.

Five paused to consider his brother, wary of anything that might involve Klaus needing his attention. “Here I am.”

Klaus he glanced in the direction Five had just come from, before looking back toward him with widening eyes. “Wait, have you already talked to Dad?”

“And what about it?” Five said.

“I thought we were all going to speak with him together?”

“After the last time we tried?” Five said, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“Oh, well, alright,” Klaus said, easily giving up the fight. “Did you get anything out of him?”

“About as much as can be expected,” Five shrugged. “He’s always enjoyed his mind games.”

“Ergh, tell me about it.” Klaus shuddered. “Anyway, do you have like, a moment? There was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Five’s automatic instinct was to say no. And yet something stopped him. It was one of those feelings that he hadn’t particularly been enjoying, one that he liked to label self-hatred, even though it was something more delicate than that. The fact that Klaus was asking, instead of just getting into his space and launching into a ramble, was somewhat concerning in itself. 

“Sure,” Five sighed, “just make it quick.”

“Okay, come with me then.”

Five followed as Klaus led him through the house, up the stairs, and all the way to the roof garden. With every step, Five began to regret agreeing to the conversation more and more. Something told him that if they needed to be somewhere this private to talk, it was not going to be a topic he would enjoy.

Outside, there was a crisp freshness in the air, and eventually, Klaus brought him under a tree and then sat down cross legged beneath it.

Five stood in the grass in front of him, looking around himself. He’d never found a reason to go to the roof, the last time he was in 2019, but it was quite a tranquil place to be. When he was a child he used to hide up here away from his siblings to read. Now, the openness of the space bothered him. He looked up and around at the neighbouring rooftops. Five felt like he was asking for a sniper to put a bullet in their heads.

“Do we have to do this now?” Five said absently. The glass of whiskey had been a little bit ill-advised, considering he hadn’t exactly slept the night before. Then there was the unexpected emotional drain from his conversation with Reginald, and the climb all the way to the roof. The vague sense of exhaustion settled over him as the alcohol worked its way through his system.

“I’m sorry, do you have other urgent plans?” Klaus said, leaning back in the grass.

Five shrugged. “I’m sure I can come up with something. ”

  
“Okay… well, why did you agree to talk to me, then?” Klaus said, calling his bluff. He said the words like he was saying _checkmate._

“Because apparently, I hate myself,” Five said, giving Klaus a mirthless smile. His words had no bite behind it, however, and he mostly just sounded tired, even to his own ears.

“Oh, shut up,” Klaus grumbled. “I know you love me.”

“You know nothing, Klaus.” Five said. “Most days I’m surprised you can even put two words together.”

“Okay, that is uncalled for,” Klaus said, stabbing his finger at Five, before he paused, then looked over him more closely.

Five was wearing the new clothes Allison had brought him with the black coat, and endured Klaus’ scrutiny with a weary indifference. Despite everything she’d said about helping him dress his age, Allison had gone with trendy, high-quality pieces that didn’t really do that much to enforce his age and authority.

“You know, I’m really not sure about this new look for you?” Klaus said, finding himself a new tangent to explore. “I have the strongest urge to call your parents and tell them to take away your pocket money. But I guess we don’t technically have parents anymore. Oh shit.” Klaus laughed as realization struck him. “Does this mean _we’re_ your parents? God, I’d make such a terrible Dad...”

“Klaus,” Five sighed. “If you don’t get to the point in the next five seconds, I’m leaving.”

“Oh,” Klaus blinked, “yeah, right, about that.”

Klaus took a deep breath, and looked deeply uncomfortable for once instead of completely shameless, which was unexpected. Five frowned, putting his guard up.

“Alright, I just... thought I should tell you something, since we’re trying this whole… _honesty and communication_ thing now, I think.” Klaus said.

Five raised an eyebrow, not sure if he should be worried. Was this going to be about Dave? Ben? Though Five had glimpsed Ben’s ghost a few times since returning to 2019, he had never had the chance to chat with him. He’d wondered if Ben hadn’t said anything to Klaus about him. It didn’t have to be some sort of message, but maybe a passing comment or two, it would still be interesting.

“Look, after you left…” Klaus said, stop-start. “During the few times I was sober I… may have tried to conjure you. Many times.”

Five blinked in surprise. So that wasn’t what he had been expecting.

“And of course, it never worked, because you weren’t dead. But I didn’t know that, so.” Klaus laughed weakly, something dark in his eyes. “So for years I just wondered if I simply wasn’t powerful enough, or if you were still alive and had just… decided you didn’t want us anymore. Which was… honestly _much_ worse to think about.”

Five had wondered, more than once, what it had been like after he’d left. Vanya’s book hadn’t gone into anything more than speculation about their sibling’s thoughts and feelings. She was never that close to them, having been excluded since the beginning. But Five knew he had hurt them when he never came back. It had never felt good for him to think about.

“I never stopped trying to get back to you guys,” Five said softly.

“I mean, I know that _now_ ,” Klaus said. “But, that’s the point I’m trying to make, really. At the time, I didn’t. And the feeling of not knowing? It _sucked_.”

Klaus fell silent, looking more forlorn than Five remembered seeing in a while. Five looked away, suddenly unable to face him anymore. 

“Ah,” Five said, after a moment of silence, thinking he knew what Klaus was getting at now. 

“So when Ben’s ghost actually showed up when I tried to conjure him, I spent the next thirteen years thinking that you were just some selfish little asshole who thought you were too good for the rest of us.”

Five winced, but didn’t say anything.

“And that wasn’t… all wrong,” Klaus said, gesturing at Five with what felt like an unnecessary amount of judgement. 

Five frowned, wondering if this was just going to devolve into insults now.

“But it wasn’t all right either, because you, Five, are a lot of things, but… selfish isn’t one of them,” Klaus said. Then he pointed both hands at himself. “And I can say that, as a deeply selfish person.”

“At least you’re self aware?” Five sighed. It was nice, what Klaus was saying and all, though Five was well aware that his altruism only extended as far as his family, and perhaps more broadly, the general concept of all life on Earth. He wasn’t sure that fit the strict definition of selflessness, but he wasn’t going to point it out right this second.

“See what I meant?” Klaus stabbed a finger at Five. “Asshole.” 

“Clearly it takes one to know one.” Five smiled humorlessly.

Klaus hissed at them, and then blinked. “Anyway I’m… getting off topic. I’m just saying, it’s alright to tell us shit, especially if it involves, you know, almost _dying_. Because if you die then _I_ become the eldest and I really don’t want that kind of responsibility, you know?”

Klaus made it all sound much more simple than it actually was. 

“You know I… somehow wouldn’t worry about that,” Five said. It was hard to imagine any sentence that had both the words ‘Klaus’ and ‘responsibility’ in it leading to anything positive.

“Just, try not to die, okay?” Klaus moaned, ignoring Five’s words as he powered on. “Especially if it might involve you bleeding out in my arms because I am _really_ sick of seeing that happen to the people I love.”

Five blinked, struck by the easy way Klaus had just said that word, _love_. He knew he had given his siblings quite the scare, but hadn’t really thought about how Klaus would have taken it. He’d fought in, what was it, Vietnam? His siblings had mentioned something about a Dave.

“And I’m not saying you have to tell us _everything_ ,” Klaus continued, “like, we don’t need to hear about all of your secret sexy rendezvous, or whatever-”

Five glanced down at his own body, and his face twisted with bewilderment. “With who? A pedophile?”

“What? No! Gross,” Klaus said. “I meant like, when you were some Commission super assassin. You can’t tell me that once you had access to the rest of humanity again after a forty-five year dry spell you didn’t at least-” Klaus emulated thrusting his hips at something. Then, his expression shifted as something seemed to occur to him. “Was Delores _that_ good a lay…?”

“God, just. Stop.” Five grimaced. “You… always know how to ruin things. But, alright. Message received, for the _third_ time. If I ever get shot again in the future, I’ll make sure to let everyone know.”

Klaus opened his mouth almost like he wanted to argue, but then, uncharacteristically, seemed to think better. 

“You know what, I’ll accept that,” Klaus said. He waved a hand and pinched his fingers together. “Baby steps.”

Five was ready to leave in that very moment, before a thought occurred to him, and he paused.

“You know that goes both ways, right?” Five said.

_What about you, Five? Would you be there if I asked?_

“What?” Klaus blinked at him comically.

“Telling each other things.” Five said, awkwardly getting the words out. “If you get hurt, or if you’re in danger… you can tell me. If I can… I’ll help.”

Klaus stared at him for a long moment, and then nodded seriously. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

“Alright,” Five said, and turned to leave.

“In the future I’ll tell you if I get tortured again.”

Five paused, his back to Klaus. That was right. Diego had mentioned it, and now that he thought about it, Klaus had referenced it too, once or twice. The Commission had taught all of its agents the art of interrogation, and torture had been one of its components. He had never wished for it to happen to Klaus. For some reason, the possibility hadn’t even occurred to him when he first discovered Klaus had been kidnapped. He’d had no visible injuries, and some part of Five had just assumed that the blood came from the war, that Klaus must have gotten away before they could hurt him.

But that hadn’t been what happened.

_Did you think that maybe they needed your help? Our help?_

As much as Five hated it, Luther was right. Though Five wanted to believe his siblings could always take care of themselves, that wasn’t always the case. Sometimes, they needed help. 

They needed him.

Five sighed, and turned back toward his brother. “I... I’m sorry you got caught up in that.” 

“Yeah, well, it was... _awful_.” Klaus said, tears filling his eyes. “Deeply traumatizing, especially after the drugs wore off and all these ghosts started appearing. Honestly just thinking about it… I-” Klaus’ lips wibbled as he stared sadly at Five. “You know, I think I’d really like a hug right now?”

Five froze, guilt and horror mixing in with the nagging sense that there was something performative about the way Klaus was acting right now. It took him a moment to realize that Klaus meant he wanted him to do it. 

And Five supposed he sort of owed it to him.

Mumbling ‘alright’ under his breath, he moved forward and lifted his arms with jerky movements, before wrapping them around Klaus.

Klaus’ arms immediately squeezed tight around him. Instinctively, Five stiffened, before he cautiously relaxed into the hug. 

Five was the one hugging Klaus. But weirdly, Five felt like he was the one being hugged. He had the vague sense that he had just been played. But as he stood there, face pressed against Klaus’ chest, it felt too good for him to care.

“Just so you know,” Klaus said. “This doesn’t make us even for the Lila thing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Five mumbled, squeezing his eyes closed.

“Good,” Klaus said, and wrapped his arms even tighter around Five.

Klaus’ warmth enveloped him, and Five felt something inside of him shudder and relax.

  
  


-

  
  


Between his conversation with Reginald and Klaus, the effects of the alcohol was starting to mix unpleasantly with the effects of sleep deprivation. After he finally broke away from Klaus, Five made his way back to his room and climbed onto his bed, picking up his notebook again to check where he had left off.

For about fifteen minutes, Five tried to focus on the equations that would help him refine his time travel. But he was having trouble thinking, and the notations were blurring together on the page. Eventually, when he found himself staring blankly at his notebook with no idea where he was up to, Five lay back on his bed and decided to rest his eyes for a little while.

Five barely caught himself in time as he started to drift off. His body was screaming at him to rest, and Five faintly thought about resisting it for a moment.

Then, Five pulled the covers over himself, ignoring the rustling of papers sliding off the bed, and closed his eyes.

  
  


-

  
  


Diego’s voice cut through the darkness. “Wake up.”

Five squeezed his eyes shut tighter, frowning, and then opened his eyes to find his brother standing over him with a scowl on his face.

“Wha-?” Five mumbled. 

Was this Diego’s revenge? This was the second time he’d woken up with his brother next to him and Five desperately prayed it would be the last. The light outside had barely changed, and Five wondered if it had even been an hour since he’d fallen asleep.

“We’re having a party.”

Five stared at Diego tiredly, waiting for him to get to the point.

“Come on.” Diego started walking off.

Through his sleepy haze, Five considered it. Did he want to participate in a _party_ , where his family were likely to get both extremely loud and exponentially more stupid with alcohol? Did he want to be the subject of endless _questions_ and be made to listen to countless dumb insults, stories, theories, and whatever else sprung into the hive mind? Did the value of his family’s company truly outweigh the fact that he was getting some good, proper _sleep_ for the first time in over 24 hours?

He turned over and closed his eyes.

The only warning was the tread of Diego’s boots against the carpet, before he ripped off the covers of Five’s bed.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed because I would _gladly_ end your existence,” Five said as he opened his eyes and shot up in fury. The effect of the threat, however, was doubtlessly dampened by the fact that he was a scrawny thirteen year old in sleep-rumpled clothes.

“You know what? You’re welcome to try,” Diego said, not intimidated in the slightest. “But guess what? _First_ , you’d have to get out of bed.”

Five let out a long, exasperated breath as Diego started to walk away.

Would anyone really miss Diego? If he murdered him right now? What did Diego even bring to the table, really? Was trajectory manipulation even that useful a power? It never helped him the last time he got shot.

“Now get up and get changed, we’re all waiting for you.” Diego said as he walked out the door.

  
  


-

  
  


Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Five thumped his way downstairs with all the petulance he could muster, just to be worthy of the thirteen year old body he had to suffer. 

Sometimes, Five wondered if the hormones weren’t getting to him after all.

Miserable, Five turned off the stairs and walked into the parlor, weaving between his siblings without pause as he went straight toward the bar. There was a tacked together banner above it spelling out: ‘WE STOPPED THE APOCALYPSE’, with the word ‘TWICE’ stuck below it. Five barely gave the thing a second glance.

“Oh, uh,” Luther said, the first to unfreeze from his shock. “Surprise!”

There were a few more scattered shouts of surprise from Vanya and Klaus. Allison was quiet, and Diego had leaned himself against a pillar, looking bored. Five ignored all of them and focused on opening the freezer and pulling out the bin of ice.

“Don’t worry,” Five said, tossing ice into the blender jug and then reaching for the lime juice. “Diego already told me about the party.”

“Diego!” Allison chided. “You were just supposed to bring him here!”

“He’s here, isn’t he?” Diego said. “Surprise.”

And of course, the triple sec and tequila, Five found the bottles and poured generous portions into the jug.

“Trust this family to screw up throwing a surprise party,” Klaus said.

Luther started to speak. “Look, we just wanted to all celebrate-”

Five switched on the blender, and everyone flinched at the sound of breaking ice.

After a moment, the blender stopped, and Five stepped closer to examine the final product.

Luther sighed. “Five, we wanted to cele-”

Five pulsed the blender. There were still too many large chunks.

“To celebrate ev-”

Five pulsed it again. Still too large. The Sparrow Academy really needed a new blender.

“Five!” Luther shouted.

Finally, the consistency looked right. Five picked up the jug and shook it slightly, examining the quality of his frozen margarita. Behind him, both Klaus and Diego were snickering.

“Will you _please_ , for the love of God, listen?” Luther pleaded.

Five sighed, putting down the jug. Apparently putting a blender on over Luther’s voice wasn’t enough to send the message that he wasn’t interested in his sentimentalities. Five turned to face Luther.

“Fine, whatever it is, say it.” Five said, slipping his hands into his pockets.

Luther stared at Five for a moment, looking nervous and unsure. 

Five stared back at him, smiling, though it was more a baring of his teeth. 

  
  


-

  
  


Once he felt certain that Five wasn’t going to interrupt again. Luther took a deep breath. 

“We wanted to all get together and celebrate the fact that we stopped two apocalypses.” 

Luther paused meaningfully. All five of them had worked hard, in secret, to prepare everything for this party. They had put up streamers and decorations, stolen a cassette player from the entertainment room, stocked up on alcohol and put out plates of snacks. Allison had gone to a fancy bakery to get nice things. Vanya had went to the party supply store. Luther had put up all the decorations. Diego had picked up the booze, and Klaus had even agreed to distract Five so he wouldn’t see their efforts to decorate the parlor.

Now, they could finally say what they’ve all been meaning to say for a very long time.

Five, however, was frowning.

“Alright,” Five shrugged. “Knock yourselves out.”

“No, there’s more.” Vanya said, stepping in. “We also wanted to say thanks, you know, for…” She glanced around at her siblings. “Saving our lives.”

“Three times,” Allison smiled, though she looked pained.

“Sorry you had to watch us die and all that stuff,” Diego added, then winced as Vanya elbowed him in the ribs.

Five’s lips were pressed in a thin line, and Luther wasn’t quite sure if he was seeing annoyance, or frustration on his face.

“But if it helps, when I die it’s never permanent,” Klaus said.

“What?” Allison frowned.

“Tell you later,” replied Klaus.

Luther was thrown for a moment, because what the hell was Klaus talking about? Then, when everyone stopped talking, he remembered his speech again.

“Right. We… uh… We sort of realized that we… never really said thank you, for saving us.” Luther lifted his glass. “So, here’s to Five!”

“To Five!” said Vanya, and everyone’s voices joined her, toasting their eldest baby brother.

Five stood frozen, his eyes wide.

“Thank you, Five.” Diego grinned.

“We love you.” Allison smiled softly.

“You’re definitely in my top three of siblings,” said Klaus.

“Please don’t get hurt again.” Vanya said.

Now, Five didn’t look annoyed anymore. Instead, there was a lost look on his face as he stared at each of them.

Luther had a feeling it was now or never. They had to get it all out while they had the chance.

“Also,” Luther said carefully. “Thank you for coming back in time to save us.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me,” Vanya said, smiling.

“Thank you for giving me the chance to meet Raymond,” Allison smiled. Beside her, Vanya also nodded seriously.

“Thank you for being honest with me about Lila,” said Diego, “even though you were also an insensitive asshole about it at the same time.”

“It’s who he is, he can’t help it,” Klaus said. “And thank you for giving me the chance to see Dave again, and to try and save him, even if I couldn’t do it in the end...” Something sad flickered across Klaus’ face.

“And though it’s probably not really for me to say, thank you for bringing Ben back to life,” Luther said, something warm and hot burning in his chest. “Thank you for giving him, and the rest of us, this second chance.”

“Thank you, Five,” Allison said, emphasizing each word. “For everything.”

As the chorus of voices faded, standing in the middle, Five still hadn’t moved, a wide-eyed look of near _panic_ on his face.

“You don’t…. _need_ to thank me.” Five said through gritted teeth. To everyone’s alarm, his eyes were turning shiny with tears. “I was hardly going to let you all die, I-”

Five words cut off abruptly. Then, he turned and jumped away in a burst of blue.

“Damn,” Luther said, lowering his glass. 

“I told you guys he’d be too embarrassed,” Diego said half-heartedly.

Klaus hummed as he sipped his drink. “You know he doesn’t want us to see him cry.”

Vanya looked sad, and Allison just watched the spot where Five had stood, and sighed.

  
  


-

  
  


Five stepped into the courtyard, his hand coming to rest on the iron pillar of the gazebo as he tried to get his breathing back under control, and blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. He shouldn’t cry because of something like this, he didn’t _want_ to cry, but it didn’t stop one, then two rebellious tears from sliding down his face. At fifty-eight years old he was supposed to have better control over himself than this. But this body was thirteen, and every feeling was so much more intense and overwhelming than it had any right to be.

Standing there with everyone around him smiling, everyone watching, celebrating, _thanking him_. Five hadn’t expected to feel this way, like someone had ripped something open inside of him, digging their fingers into a gaping wound he had forgotten existed. There was a tangle of emotions inside of his chest, raw and desperate and agonizing, that he didn’t dare to name. It was as though every second of struggle in the past forty-five years, every spilled drop of blood, every empty night, every moment of lonely despair, had suddenly been redefined, and given meaning.

He wasn’t just fighting _for_ something imagined anymore, he wasn’t chasing a dream of his siblings resurrected, apocalypse averted, running after a _fantasy_ of having his _family_ again. He used to play pretend with these moments, in those desperate twilight hours when the silence became too much, each time he’d pressed a candle into his canned meal and imagined it was more than just his voice singing happy birthday. In his most desperate times, Five had dragged his family out again and again from the depths of his memories, even as they grew more misshapen and faded with each year that went by. He had missed them, all of them, so much. 

Now, he didn’t have to play pretend anymore. 

They were here now. They were alive, they’d stopped not just one, but two apocalypses. And Five had spent so much time running toward his goal, forcing and pushing himself forward over every hill and obstacle, that he’d never noticed, not until now, that in so many ways, he had already made it to his destination.

These moments had been safer in his imagination, Five thought. When it came to life like that it was too bright, too loud, too _much_ , and all of the details were not how he wanted it to be. When they all stood there like that, real and tangible and right there within reach, Five couldn’t stand the thought that one day he would lose them all again.

“You know, it’s okay to cry,” a voice sounded behind him.

Five whirled around, and found Ben sitting behind him inside the gazebo, an open book in his hands. For a wild second, hope and joy surged inside of him, until he took notice of the red uniform, and the changed hair. 

Five hadn’t expected company when he had chosen to jump outside, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to feel embarrassed at being caught. He blinked, and took a deep breath, pulling himself back together. The metal was cool against his hand, and Five focused on the feeling, letting it keep him in the moment. 

“As strange as it might sound, it’s not so much crying that bothers me.” Five said after a second, when his voice didn’t feel like it would betray him anymore. He turned and leaned against the pillar, letting out a breath. 

Crying was simply a release of chemicals, a normal physiological reaction to strong emotion, after all. It wasn’t really the crying that Five was worried about. 

Ben jerked up his brows, a doubtful expression on his face.

“The thing is…” Five took a deep breath. He’d never quite given voice to this feeling, before. “If I ever let myself start, I’m not sure I’d quite know how to _stop_.”

Five was walking on a thin sheet of ice, staring into a terrifying abyss each time he stepped over the cracks. He knew exactly how deep and dark the waters ran, had dug every channel and ravine himself, handfed the sharks that lurked beneath. And Five knew that if he tread somewhere he shouldn’t, if he ever let himself slip and fall through the surface, the freezing currents would drag him under and he would never see the light of day again.

“And since I’m usually the only one in my family who ever gets anything done,” Five continued. “I can’t afford to be useless right now.”

Five looked over at Ben, and offered him a small smile.

Ben stared at him in stunned silence. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a bit intense?”

Five huffed in soft laughter. How was he meant to explain the Pandora’s box of nightmares in his brain that he could never open? The depth and width of his traumas wasn’t something Five dared to ever measure. If he ever let himself confront the things he had survived, if he paused to count his losses, if he ever stopped to examine the blood on his hands, he wasn’t sure there’d be anything left of him, after, to keep going. Five had no control over the person that would emerge on the other side. 

Did that make him _intense?_ Maybe.

“Not in those exact words, but, yes,” Five said.

“You don’t really talk like a fourteen-year old,” Ben observed, his gaze considering.

“This body is _thirteen_ ,” Five explained. “But my consciousness is somewhere closer to sixty. The perils of time travel, you see.”

Ben thought over Five’s words, then nodded sagely. “That actually explains a lot.”

Five shrugged, feeling a bit calmer as he fell into the flow of conversation with the man before him. 

“My name is Ben, by the way,” Ben said.

“Number Five.” Five introduced himself.

Ben seemed curious. “Your name is quite different from your siblings.”

“Because it’s a number?” Five said, raising an eyebrow. 

Ben nodded. “Did you pick it to be different? Or-”

Five laughed. “More like the opposite. Let’s just say I never quite felt the same need to fit in that my siblings did.”

The others had seen their numbers as ranks, as symbols of shame and neglect. Growing up in a house where they’d had little control over anything at all, it had meant something to his siblings to have something special and chosen by themselves. Perhaps it helped them separate themselves from their father, and all the horrors he had represented. But Five had never felt the same way. A name was a name, even if it was unorthodox. It represented everything that he was, nothing more, nothing less. He was as much a student of his father as he was a brother to his siblings, or a hero to the world.

A small smile appeared on Ben’s face. “Fair enough, I suppose. You know, it’s good to see you’ve recovered. Your family was about ready to bite our heads off whenever we went near the infirmary. Maybe now they’ll finally learn to relax.”

Five hummed. “They can be overprotective on occasion. It’s unsurprising, but unfortunate.”

“Is it really so bad that they care about you?” Ben said, brows furrowing. 

“It… complicates things,” Five said. “They’ve always had a way of making things much harder than it needs to be. And I admit I’ve become used to getting things done on my own. Working within a team presents its own challenges.” 

Ben laughed. “For a moment there it was almost like you were talking about my family.”

“I certainly hope your family isn’t anywhere near as dysfunctional as mine is.”

“Well, I’m sure arguments could be made,” Ben mused. “Still wouldn’t trade them for the world though, unfortunately.”

“I understand the feeling.” Five said. “I travelled back forty-five years in time to save all of them, not that they’ve been _grateful_ about it until today.”

It was easier, somehow, talking to a stranger with his brother’s face than to any of his siblings. This Ben carried different baggage from Five and his siblings. He wouldn’t see himself as responsible for Five somehow, like the others did. Five could be as strange and as honest as he wanted, and he very much doubted that this Ben would care.

Five stared at the man for perhaps a moment too long, and Ben sighed.

“All of you stare at me like you’re seeing a ghost. It gets old really fast, you know?”

Five raised his eyebrows, something between surprise and amusement on his face. “Has no one told you that’s what you are to us?”

“What do you mean?”

“In our timeline, you were part of the Umbrella Academy, until you died on a mission when you were a teenager. So in many ways, you _are_ a ghost to all of us.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“Funny how that hasn’t come up.” Annoyance flickered across Ben’s face.

“I imagine it’s a difficult topic for them.” Five said slowly. “For what it’s worth, I only knew you when you were a child, up until I jumped into the future. I met all of my siblings as strangers three weeks ago, and I spent one of those weeks unconscious. So we’re on pretty even ground, when it comes down to it.”

“But you knew me, the other me?” Ben’s expression was guarded, though his voice was curious.

“Only until you were thirteen,” Five replied, frowning as he struggled to dredge up the memories. “You were one of the few siblings I could tolerate, at that age. You were clever, you bothered to do the reading, and you could actually keep up when I rambled at you. That and... you were almost always happy to go along with our bad ideas.” Five shrugged. “You were a pretty cool kid.”

“What was my favorite book?” Ben said suspiciously.

“You didn’t have one,” Five replied. “But you always said that you hoped that the next book might be it.”

Five didn’t know if this version of Ben was the same, but some part of him wanted to hope that the brother he lost was still here, somewhere. That this could be a second chance.

Ben was silent for a long time before he spoke again. “This is so fucking weird.”

Five laughed, and when silence fell between them again, it didn’t feel quite so stilted.

“You know, you should go back,” Ben said after a while. “Your family is probably missing you.”

Five considered Ben’s suggestion, and strangely, it didn’t sound so bad. 

Making up his mind, Five took a few steps away from the gazebo, before he paused, remembering something, and turned around again. 

“You know, in a way it’s your party too.” Five said.

“What do you mean?” Ben frowned.

“I mean, you… the other version of you, at least, was the one that stopped the second apocalypse.”

“Seriously?” Ben’s face twisted in disbelief.

Five nodded. “You could come ask about it, if you want.” 

With that, Five walked away.

  
  
  
  


-

  
  


Everyone jumped when Five swept back into the parlor, and then stared at him as he walked past all of them back toward the blender.

“We thought you’d left,” Luther said dumbly, eyes comically wide.

“Well, I came back,” Five said, spreading his arms. “Is this supposed to be a party, or what?”

Five’s siblings were scattered around the room, sitting and standing and looking somber with drinks in their hands. It was honestly a depressing scene to walk into. Approaching the bar, Five found himself a glass and checked the blender jug. The frozen margarita he’d made wasn’t too melted. He started pouring himself a drink, and then stabbed a straw into it, as well as a pink umbrella.

When he turned around, everyone was still staring at him, something terrifyingly soft in each of their eyes. Klaus’ face was twisting with some sort of sad emotion.

Five frowned, not quite understanding why his instincts screamed danger, when suddenly, Klaus cried out.

“Number Five!” Klaus dove forward, tackling him.

Five, taken by surprise, teetered dangerously, eyes widening as he tried to stop his drink from spilling. 

“We thought you abandoned us!” Klaus wailed, wrapping his arms around Five and squeezing. “But you came back! I knew you loved us! You just couldn’t keep away, could you?”

“Klaus, get off me,” Five said through gritted teeth, his posture stiff. Letting Klaus hug him earlier that day had been a mistake, if he now thought he had a right to attack Five whenever he wanted.

“Is this a group hug?” Allison approached, laughing, and before Five could try to extricate himself, she was suddenly wrapping her arms Five and Klaus both. 

“No!” Five yelled, but he was too late.

Allison pressed her cheek against the top of Five’s hair. “I think this looks like a group hug.” 

Suddenly, all of Five’s remaining siblings were advancing on them.

“Well, alright.” Diego shrugged, then threw his arms around Five and his siblings and squeezed. “Vanya, get in here.”

“I’m going to kill all of you,” Five muttered. He couldn’t move, and his siblings were pressed so tight against him that he’d probably bring them all with him if he tried to jump out of it.

Vanya, and then finally Luther, all moved in, wrapping their arms around everyone else as they ignored Five’s increasingly muffled protests. Suddenly, Five was being squished by all five of his siblings, and slowly suffocating in their arms.

“Get- Off-” Five groaned. “I can’t breathe...”

“Five more minutes,” Klaus mumbled, a dopey smile on his face.

“This is sort of nice,” came Vanya’s faint voice. 

“We should do this more often, guys,” said Luther.

“I hate all of you,” Five muttered spitefully.

“Then stop saving our lives,” Diego murmured.

“Never.” Five snapped, offended that Diego would even say that.

There was a moment of silence as Five tried to wait out the torture.

“Diego,” Allison’s voice was pained, “your knives are digging into me.

“Uh... I can’t really move.” Diego said, straining. “Luther, let go.”

“Oh, sorry,” Luther said sheepishly above them.

Some of the pressure suddenly lessened, and then one by one, Five’s siblings pulled away.

Drink still gripped tightly in his hand, Five heaved a breath, savoring the sensation of being able to fill his lungs with air again. Then, he turned and levelled a glare at the rest of his family.

“None of you are ever doing that again, am I understood?” Five said, aiming for intimidation, though the breathlessness of his voice undersold it significantly.

“Yeah, not unless Diego gets rid of his knives.” Allison groaned, rubbing at her back as she moved away.

“What if we just don’t include Diego?” Klaus offered. 

“Hey!” shouted Diego.

“That’s a bit mean,” said Vanya, frowning.

“Yeah, he’s not very comfortable to hug,” Luther said.

“Include whoever you want.” Five winced, rolling his shoulders as he put some distance between himself and the others. “As long as it doesn’t include me.”

Five hoped his siblings got what they needed out of that because it was never happening again.

“This family is fucking unbelievable,” Diego muttered, shaking his head. “None of you deserve me.”

Luther patted him on the shoulder, a sympathetic smile on his face. “You win some, you lose some, buddy.”

“Why are you even wearing it, Diego?” Allison said, gesturing at the offending knife belt. “This is a party, there’s not going to be a fight.”

“I’m not going to leave it lying around in a house full of strangers,” Diego said. “That’s how shit gets stolen, Allison.”

“No _fights_? This sounds like a terrible party.” Klaus grumbled sadly, taking a sip of his drink.

Luther, who was mostly looking concerned, frowned at Klaus.

Five sighed quietly, and sucked on his straw. At this rate his family was going to turn him into an alcoholic.

“I highly doubt anyone in the Sparrow Academy is going to care about a few knives, Diego,” said Allison.

“What do you know about those people, huh?” Diego said. “Nothing. They could be… knife thieves, collectors, and you wouldn’t know it.”

“Knife thieves?” Vanya said, doubt on her face.

“I mean you could ask them…?” Klaus’ voice sounded, and Five followed his stunned gaze toward the entryway.

As though waiting to make an entrance, it was in that moment that Ben walked into the room with the entirety of the Sparrow Academy behind him, all of them clad in their red uniforms. 

There was what seemed like a full minute of collective silence as Five’s siblings stared at the new arrivals. 

Five looked past Ben, to the curious and suspicious faces of their Sparrow Academy counterparts, hiding his smile. He recognized a family when he saw one, and there was something protective there, in the way they all looked between Ben and Five’s family, still uncertain if Five and his siblings should be treated as threats even after all of their time beneath one roof. 

It was hard to tell what the green cube (Christopher?) was thinking though.

“What?” Ben said, a smirk rising to his lips as he took in everyone’s staring faces. “You didn’t think you were going to get away with throwing a party in _our house_ without inviting us, were you?

“Took you long enough,” Five said, and then sucked on his straw again.

Five’s siblings turned toward him in wide-eyed unison, before going back to staring at the Sparrow Academy.

“Well then, come on in!” Klaus announced, the first one to move forward. He slung one arm around Ben’s neck and started to pull him deeper into the room. “All of these guys are super boring. So all you really need to know is that _I_ am the fun one.”

Ben tensed, and Five’s gaze darted behind him, as one of Ben’s sibling’s powers flared briefly.

“Also, do you guys collect knives?” Klaus continued, oblivious as he guided Ben toward the bar. “My brother _really_ wants to know.”

With each new word that Klaus rambled, Ben relaxed more and more, letting himself be led. “No I… don’t think so?”

Five watched as the rest of the Sparrow Academy seemed to also relax, looking alternatively suspicious and excited as they considered the rest of them. 

“So…” Luther said awkwardly. “Do you guys want a drink?”

  
  


-

  
  


Ben’s arrival with the Sparrow Academy was a welcome distraction that took everyone’s attention off of Five. It seemed like both families were equally curious about each other, and knew little despite the week they’d spent sharing the same house. Soon, everyone had broken into small groups of conversation, and the cassette player played some rock song that Five had never heard before.

Far too soon, Five finished his margarita, and poured himself some sugary soft drink to follow it, not wanting to overdo the drinking in one day. Checking that no one was watching him, Five jumped himself up to the upper floor, and leant forward against the balustrade to watch the goings-on downstairs. 

It was strange, seeing the two Academies chatting and mingling like this. Vanya was standing off to one side, looking a bit uncertain. Luther was showing off his strength to one of the women, and Allison had a small crowd around her, while Diego engaged in what looked like an intense conversation with the guy whose powers had flashed earlier. Klaus had monopolized Ben, and was talking at him a mile an hour, as Ben watched him with an unexpectedly indulgent expression.

Six in the Sparrow Academy, six remaining of the Umbrella Academy, plus Lila. This made for thirteen powered individuals, and Five knew, from his conversation with Reginald, that there were still more of them out there. Could more of them be threats? Five wondered as he sipped on his drink. He had no interest in meeting all of them, but if time allowed, it might be good to track them down and keep tabs on them, just in case. Maybe he could break into Reginald’s study and take a peek at the old man’s notes. Knowing his Dad, Reginald had probably already done the work for him. But that didn’t mean he trusted the old man to really know what he was doing, no matter how much better the Sparrow Academy seemed to be doing in comparison to his family, in this rewritten timeline. 

“Hiding at your own party?” 

Five looked up to find Vanya walking toward him from the staircase, watching him with amusement. 

Five shrugged, and took a sip of his drink. The alcohol worked so much faster on a thirteen year old body. “I wouldn’t really call it _my_ party. We’re supposed to be celebrating stopping the apocalypse, aren’t we?”

It looked like everyone here needed it more than he did, though it was nice, seeing his siblings enjoying themselves.

Vanya joined his side, and looked down at the rest of the crowd below. “I wouldn’t say that. It was Allison’s idea, you know. She wanted to do something for you after what you told us. I told them you’d never stick around if it was obviously about you.”

Five almost smiled at that. Vanya’s words were hard to refute after the speech his family had given him earlier. “Hm, that does sound like her.”

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. Laughter sounded from below.

“So, what do you plan to do next?” Vanya said, her eyes soft as she studied him. “Now that we’ve saved the world, what’s your next step?”

Hazel had asked him that once, the first time around. Five stared into his glass, remembering his words. 

_If you never time travelled, you never got caught up with the Handler, what would have happened?_

_Now you can grow up._

“Do you still want to find my younger self?” Five said, thinking of the child crying in the alleyway. 

“Of course,” Vanya replied, an eager smile breaking across her face.

“Maybe he could have a happier adolescence, this time around,” Five mused, taking a sip of his drink.

“You’re not worried about paradox psychosis?” 

“I survived it once, I could survive it again,” Five said, turning around to lean back against the balustrade. “Besides, I didn’t say I was going to be involved.”

“I suppose that’s for the best,” Vanya said, thoughtful. “Do you have an idea of where he might be?”

“I may have a lead,” Five admitted. “My conversation with Dad this morning was… semi-fruitful.”

Vanya laughed softly. “ _Of course_ you’ve already spoken to him.”

Five shrugged, guilty as charged.

“Were you even going to tell us?” Vanya teased.

“You all would have found out, sooner or later,” Five said, glancing over his shoulder to the people down below. Klaus threw his arms up dramatically, and Five frowned, wondering what the hell was going on. “Besides, I didn’t really want to ruin the party.”

Vanya laughed softly, something pained crossing her expression. “I suppose Dad’s always been a mood killer. Honestly, I’m almost worried he’s going to come downstairs and put a stop to all this any second.”

“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t.” 

“You know, I still can’t believe he said those things to Diego? Back at the restaurant?” Vanya said. “But then I stop and remember that he’s always been like that. I had just… forgotten it over the years.”

“He never did have the patience to suffer fools,” Five mused, turning back around as he tried to figure out what Klaus was doing. “Which was unfortunate for the bunch of foolish children he adopted.”

“Wow, you really sound like him.” Vanya said, impressed.

Five threw Vanya a look of disgust. Vanya remained serious for a full three seconds, before she broke down giggling.

Five shook his head, and chuckled as he went back to watching the people below them. There was a strange feeling in his chest, and it took Five a moment to realize it was contentment.

“You sure you’re okay up here?” Five said, tilting his head toward the crowd downstairs as he glanced at Vanya. Klaus was attempting some sort of floating acrobatic feat, to the collective horror of their siblings, and the collective amusement of the Sparrow Academy. “Things are looking pretty interesting down there.”

“I like hanging out with you, Five,” said Vanya, answering a question Five had never even asked. “Besides, I’ve never been the greatest with people.”

When Vanya looked back down at the others, however, her eyes were soft, and Five thought he could see longing. 

“That makes two of us,” Five said, as he looked down to find Klaus now floating upside down, arms spread, in the middle of the room, hair falling around his face. Five didn’t really do great in crowds, after so many years alone. He’d avoided every single office party he’d been invited to at the Commission, and didn’t show up even to his own award ceremonies. “There weren’t really a lot of _house parties_ in the apocalypse.” 

“Maybe we could brave it together?” Vanya said after a quiet moment. “Might be easier?”

Five hesitated, studying the crowd below. He had no idea what to say to any of these people. It was different, talking to people when he didn’t want something from them. But perhaps it would be sufferable if he used it as a chance to collect some intel straight from the source. 

“Come on,” said Vanya, reaching out a hand to tug on his arm.

Five looked at her, uncertain, before he nodded, and let Vanya lead him back down the stairs.

  
  


-

  
  
  


Five walked back into the room with Vanya straight into a discussion comparing childhood traumas. And it turned out that even in this changed timeline, Reginald wasn’t so much as reformed as ‘slightly less inhumane’. His family had an unsurprising amount of things in common with the Sparrow Academy thanks to their shared parents. Though Five didn’t quite understand the wide-eyed amazement that the others wore when they all concluded that yes, they _also_ got sent to bed without dinner as punishment for speaking out of turn.

Then, another group insisted on playing some form of party game involving chairs and some sort of ritualistic chant. It _seemed_ like some variant of heavily house-ruled musical chairs, combined with nursery rhymes and duck-duck-goose. But its exact origin was impossible to pinpoint. After Five refused multiple invitations to join in, he found himself somehow pulled in to be adjudicator, for one, and then three, and then eight games.

When the group finally grew bored and moved onto something else, Five was freed. Then, he walked past Luther thoroughly embarrassing himself by completely misexplaining the history of lunar theory. It wasn’t Gailleo who identified the relationship between the tides and the Moon’s gravity, the man thought the ocean was a giant basin and the water was being thrown around by the Earth’s rotation. The answer came from Newton, which Luther should have known since Newton was _famous_ for his laws of _gravity_. It unfortunately meant that Five had to step in to correct him, and then, they were all discussing the moon and Luther’s experiences living there, and Five had too many questions to leave.

As the party progressed, Five found himself pulled into conversations, and even more games, as the crowd around him grew increasingly more inebriated. Eventually, people started dancing as one of the Sparrows (Carla?) uncovered a poppy mixtape to put into the cassette player. 

One song turned into two, then three, and there was no sign of anyone’s enthusiasm fading. Another song played, all about how girls just wanted to have fun, and Five stood by a pillar watching in unconcealed amusement as his family embarrassed themselves in the open space that was now a dancefloor. The only person who’d demonstrated any sort of grace was Allison, though she’d left for the bar two songs ago. Right now, Klaus was making some sort of weird, spasming motions, Vanya was doing an odd bob, and Luther was just awkwardly moving his arms around and spinning.

There was a loud zap, and blue light flooded the room. 

Silence fell as everyone stopped, and turned to stare as Dot stood before them all in the middle of the room, briefcase in hand. She stared at them in return, looking a little awed by the collection of Hargreeves all around her. 

The last notes of the song faded, and the cassette player fell into silence with a click.

“Dot?” Diego said, looking both confused and delighted as he pulled away from his group and approached the case manager. “What are you doing here?”

“Diego! Hi! It’s so good to see you.” Dot said with a bright smile, and then, she looked around and waved cheerily at everyone in the room. “Hello everyone!” 

There were a few scattered waves and confused hellos directed back at her.

Dot beamed, and then looked around again curiously. “Well, I, uh, I was actually looking for Miss Vanya? Number Seven.”

“Me?” Vanya said, her voice small and awed. She stood on the dance floor, flanked by Luther and Ben.

“Yes!” Dot lit up, and took a step toward her. “Well, you see, I was wondering, and it’s, well, it’s entirely up to you, of course. You don’t have to say yes if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Dot paused, and Vanya stared at her, uncertain. 

“Well… what is it?” Vanya said.

Dot smiled sympathetically. “Well, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind ending the world?” 

The Sparrow Academy tensed, and Five tugged his powers forward, readying himself in case it would be needed. He knew, from everything he’d learned, that Reginald Hargreeves had brought them up with the same purpose as his family - to stop an apocalypse, to save the world. 

Perhaps his father had also readied them to fight the Umbrella Academy, if it couldn’t be avoided.

“It’s just, you see,” Dot continued, shifting awkwardly. “It’s really critically important that humanity doesn’t continue to exist past…” She held up her wrist, and checked her watch, then nodded. “10:22 p.m.”

The room fell into silence. The clock on the wall ticked onward, it was seven minutes past twelve.

  
  


-

  
  


_“What makes you say a thing like that?” Reginald said._

_His father had never been easy to read, but right now, Five saw what he thought might be grudging respect from the man in front of him. It wasn’t quite confirmation, but it felt enough like vindication. Five’s lips twitched with what was almost a smile._

_“The fact that I’m standing here talking to you indicates that some version of me must have survived to accomplish similar things.” Five said. “And it means that the apocalypse is still coming.”_

_All of this was supposed to happen, the Handler had said. What’s meant to be, is meant to be._

_“Everything about me has been shaped by what I experienced in the end of the world. And the moment I stop the apocalypse for good is the moment I unmake my very existence, and my family will be left only with a child who jumped too far forward in time in a moment of hubris.”_

_Five was fishing, but it didn’t mean the possibility wasn’t there. If the Commision was to be believed, he wouldn’t simply pop out of existence. Instead, the fading was a gradual one, as he stopped being actively thought of and perceived, stopped being relevant to the timeline around him, there would be a moment that there would be nothing left to justify his existence. And overnight, as the world fell asleep and his impact was forgotten, he would disappear._

_Reality has always been something loosely defined, memories and events will shift and change to fill in the gaps. Different equations still led to the same outcome, after all._

_It had almost been reassuring, the ease with which Luther had agreed to help his younger self erase his current self. For practical reasons Five had persuaded him otherwise, but it gave him the hope that his siblings would understand, when the time came. His influence on their lives would, if everything went well, be limited to just a few weeks, or months, ultimately insignificant in the decades that they would get to live out in an apocalypse-free world._

_For now, he still had time. Not as much as Five would have liked to spend with and get to know his family. But that was the way of things, sometimes. People didn’t always get everything they wanted. Sacrifices had to be made. At least this way, his past self might have a second chance to grow up, to live the life he’d only ever fantasized about in his loneliest moments._

_But so long as this version of Five still existed, it meant he still had a job to do, and Five was not going to stop until he saw it done._

_“So tell me,” Five said, when Reginald made no response. “How close am I to the truth?”_

_Reginald’s eyes were hard and considering, and Five returned his gaze steadily._

_“Despite your limited knowledge, you pose an interesting hypothesis,” Reginald stated. “I believe you’re already aware of exactly how plausible your reasoning is. So, what is it that you expect from me, precisely?”_

_“The truth,” Five said. “In the old 2019 you_ killed _yourself to bring the Academy back together again, because you knew the end of the world was coming. But I don’t think you expected Vanya to have been the cause.”_

_The last time around, Vanya had been the only explanation Five had access to, but that justification had never been perfect. Reginald clearly knew that something was coming in the future, had brought them all back together with his death, in order to fight it. But it made no sense that their father would muzzle Vanya’s powers for so long and then commit the very act that set the end of the world in motion. Not when he had spent almost two decades of his life drilling into them that their purpose was to stop it. If Reginald wanted the world to end, there were easier ways to go about it than a thirty-year long game involving half a dozen dysfunctional, superpowered children._

_If stopping Vanya had been Reginald’s original purpose, then the Umbrella Academy had, in their roundabout way, succeeded in their mission. They may have been a dysfunctional team, but the world was still spinning on, over a week after humanity’s previously scheduled end. Yet Reginald didn’t treat them as successes. The fact that the Sparrow Academy existed to replace them meant that Reginald saw his previous cohort as failures. Stopping Vanya was never the Umbrella Academy’s original purpose._

_Then, despite their failure, Reginald had still kept Five and his family around, had helped and sheltered them, despite having every right to mistrust them after the two apocalypses they’d brought forward. Their father was not someone who ever did things out of kindness. Everything Reginald did, he did with intent. And it meant Reginald wanted something from his family for helping them, something that he expected them to willingly give._

_And the one fact that Reginald could rely on, from everything he’d seen in 1963, was that Five and his family cared enough to fight the end of the world, even when they were themselves its cause._

_Now, between the Umbrellas and the Sparrows, Reginald had a dozen superpowered soldiers under his roof, all with a single united purpose._

_“So.” Five said. “What were you preparing for?”_

_Reginald’s expression remained unchanged, and Five patiently waited as his father considered the weight of his words._

_“Say I indulge this theory of yours,” Reginald said eventually. “Say I point out the obvious connections you have missed, and reveal to you things that you are in no way equipped to fully comprehend. What makes you think I should tell you_ anything _, when you and your ‘Umbrella Academy’ have already been the cause of the end of the world twice over?”_

_If doomsday was coming, why didn’t they band together and do something about it? Reginald had said._

_That night in the restaurant. The family Reginald had encountered had appeared to be little more than a bunch of directionless, delusional buffoons, their potential untapped, barely resembling anything like a cohesive team. In some ways, Reginald hadn’t been wrong to judge them based on what he saw that night. But Five knew that his family were capable of much more than what Reginald had seen, even if they had to be dragged into it kicking and screaming. Five had witnessed them on the battlefield that day, in the apocalypse that never was, he had seen the things they could accomplish when they banded together._

_This was a test. Five could tell that much. Just because his father’s questions were wrapped in a package of self-superior condescension didn’t mean that the answer didn’t matter. There were a million things Five could say, and more than anything, Reginald owed them the truth. But if his own upbringing, and the state of his siblings were anything to judge by, his father had never really cared about what he owed them as a parent. The only thing Five knew that Reginald truly cared for, the one thing he had been willing to die for, had always been the same._

_So perhaps, Five knew what Reginald wanted to hear._

_“Because each time, we have fixed it,” Five said. “This family,_ my _family, may be messed up, broken, and completely dysfunctional. But we care, not just about each other, but about this world and the people in it. You may not have raised us to cause the end of the world, but you raised us to stop it, and that is what we have done,_ twice over. _”_

_The truth was, Five and his family were never failures. They were Reginald’s greatest successes, whether he knew it or not._

_“And, if you would_ help _us.” Five said. “We could do it again.”_

_Reginald stared at Five, stone-faced and immovable. And Five willed for him to see sense._

  
  


-

  
  


It was seven minutes past twelve, and the parlor was deathly silent as everyone stood staring at Dot in shock.

Diego was gaping as he stared at the woman in front of him, was missing all of his knives, each of them having found a new home in various pieces of decor and furniture. His hand spasmed, as though he wanted desperately to hold onto something.

Luther had his top buttons undone, his gorilla chest half-exposed to show off his monstrous physique to the Sparrows. He was staring dumbly at Dot, arm still awkwardly sticking out, mid-dance.

Klaus had lost most of his clothes, as well as his shoes, and stood on the dancefloor in only skin-tight jeans, hair wild from dancing.

Allison was sitting on the bar, legs crossed and drink in hand as she chatted with a few of the Sparrow boys, looking to all like a woman well-used to being worshipped.

Vanya stood before Dot, eyes wide and face flushed as she shrank nervously into herself.

Five stood in the back of the room, leaning against a pillar, watching the rest of the room, as his glass hung loosely from one hand.

His family, the Umbrella Academy, looked nothing like a team when stood next to the Sparrow Academy, who were each dressed in their neat red uniforms, their stances battle-ready. Among them was Ben, the brother they had saved only by accident, the brother who didn’t know, and couldn’t trust anymore.

Somewhere out there, was also Lila, whose mysterious interference had explained nothing meaningful about the future she had come from. Five didn’t know what sort of role she was going to play in the days to come, but he had a feeling they would see her again.

Five considered his rag-tag family, and unlike the times before, there was a conspicuous absence of embarrassment, or disappointment, within him. This time, Five felt a strange sense of confidence that he couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it was something as simple as the fact that this was nothing they hadn’t all survived before. Or maybe, it was something like trust, like affection, or understanding. Maybe it was the knowledge that this time, none of them had to face anything alone. That whatever was coming, they would stand against it together.

His family would figure it out, and stumble their way to a solution, just like every time before.

As long as Vanya didn’t agree to end the world for the Commission.

Five watched, and waited. 

“Why?” Vanya said, her voice cutting through the silence. “What happens that means we can’t be allowed to exist?”

Dot took a deep breath, and started to explain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roll credits.
> 
> And that is where we will leave things before this turns into a full on season 3 spec fic because I do not have it in me to plot and write a whole season’s worth of apocalypse shenanigans. Ending on a cliffhanger is standard for the show itself, so I hope you guys are okay with where I’m tying it off. I started this fic as a self-indulgent outlet for my post s2 Five-related feelings, and that is what it shall remain. It ended up ballooning a little bit out of control. But fanfiction is all about exploring possibilities and things that could happen. I’ve presented a few for you here, and I hope it’s a journey you’ve enjoyed. 
> 
> If you are interested in some notes explaining some of the decisions I’ve made in writing this fic, they can be found in the following 'chapter'. I might see you there, but if not, thank you for reading! I hope you were entertained.


	9. Afterword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes for anyone interested in taking a peek behind-the-scenes

Welcome!

This fic was really one big attempt for me to process all of my thoughts and feelings after watching the two seasons. And it’s self-indulgent in the sense that a lot of what I’ve written is reflective of my personal hopes for how the show will progress, and how the characters will grow. There’s small things like Five maybe wearing something other than the uniform, and bigger things like the family learning to better support and communicate with each other. My characterisation is one personal interpretation out of millions, and hopefully it was something that worked for you. If not, then I hope at least it wasn’t so jarring to be unrecognisable.

-

  
  


**The Communication Issue**

If I had to pinpoint a theme for this fic beyond the obvious (Five), it’s probably communication, or the effects of what a failure to communicate can have on yourself and others, especially in a family or team setting. Five could have told his family about the time travel and his health problem immediately after it happened, but he didn’t. In turn, it led to an incredible amount of hurt for all of them, especially because none of his siblings knew what had happened and had nowhere to direct the blame. 

It’s always been really interesting to me how the way we communicate tends to say more about us than the person we’re talking to. The thing with Five and his family is that there are _so many facets_ to the problems affecting all of them that there’s really no way to address all of it at once. And so it turned into a fun exercise examining all the ways each sibling might process the events, the impact what happened could have on them, as well as how that would consequently affect their later interactions with Five. Despite the significant overlap, in the end we had each sibling effectively hammering home different lessons coming out of the same event.

  * Luther - it’s okay to ask for help when you need it
  * Vanya - all of us care about you and want you to be okay
  * Diego - remember your actions impact us, keeping secrets can hurt other people
  * Allison - we need your help too sometimes, please pay attention to the rest of us
  * Then Klaus more or less ties everything together in his own way, and with a hug



And then there is Ben, whose outsider perspective was a good opportunity to explore _why_ Five is the way he is.

In turn, as a few of you have noticed, a fun part of writing this fic was taking a look at how each sibling might communicate things differently. Did Allison use her own emotional vulnerability to manipulate Five into being more communicative and spending more time with her? The answer is yes. Then you have Diego who does the equivalent of punching the problem in the face; Luther who looks to Five for cues and guidance on the solution - before getting right to the point; Vanya who comes forward with empathy, sincerity, and openness; and Klaus who more or less sulks and guilts Five into doing what he wants. Coincidentally, Klaus also recognized that the only way to give Five a hug is to trick him (or surprise him) into it.

Though it never really informed my writing, toward the end of the fic it occured to me that each of the siblings embodied various different stages of grief as well as different dominant modes of communication. You have Luther who is assertive (acceptance), Diego who is aggressive (anger), Vanya who is submissive (depression/bargaining), Klaus who is passive-aggressive (denial), and Allison who is manipulative (bargaining/depression). It’s not a perfect match by any means, even in relation to the way I wrote them, but it is a fun way to frame and interpret characters.

  
  


-

  
  


**Allison’s Power**

I think the one thing in this fic that inspired a lot of interesting comments was the discussion between Five and Allison about her power. To throw in my two cents on the topic - I think the ‘right’ answer is going to be different for everyone. 

To begin with, the very nature of Allison’s ability acts to override free will, which, if it’s something you hold sacred, means it’s something that must never be used. End of story.

But at the same time, a power is just that, a power. It’s something filled with potential for both good and evil, depending on how it’s used. In some ways it’s like a knife - you can use it for benign things like chopping vegetables, or opening a box, but in the wrong hands, the wrong situation, it becomes a weapon for violence.

Then, at the heart of it, is Allison, a real life person with hopes and fears. And that’s really where the focus of the fic’s discussion rested. Any person can pick up a knife, everyone has the capacity to hurt or help others with their words, but Allison has a natural advantage that makes everything more impactful. When she achieves something using her power, she can’t easily take it back.

And so the question really becomes one of - do you trust the person holding the knife to do the right thing with it? And that answer is going to be different for all of us, because we all have different understandings of who Allison is, what her powers can/should be used for, and what missteps we can forgive. For Allison, in turn, it becomes, does she trust herself not to abuse her power? We’ve seen the ways she’s misused it in the past (s1), we’ve seen her guilt (s1) and struggles over it (s2). But where is she going next? The show doesn’t seem to have gotten there yet, but s3 would be the time to delve into it.

For the Five in this fic, his position comes from his support and trust of his sister. He _does_ trust Allison to do the right thing. And even when she makes mistakes that means others would write her off, he trusts her to be good at heart, and will step in to help her - because he is her brother. In turn, he hasn’t actually seen the scope of Allison’s abuse of her power (I heard a rumor that you loved me), so he has no reason to doubt his own faith in her. Of course, it doesn’t mean his faith isn’t deserved, but that’s something contingent on Allison’s decisions in the future. And hopefully she’ll have the support and guidance of people who love her along the way. 

In addition to this, Five comes from a place of, arguably, privilege, in that he sees their powers as something integral to their own identity, and doesn’t quite grasp the extent of negative impact that Allison’s power can have on others and herself. The disconnect is a bit like that scene in the X-Men movies with Rogue and Storm. Rogue is excited by the prospect of losing her powers because it means she’ll be able to physically touch people and won’t _kill the people she loves_. But Storm is offended by the idea of losing her powers because she is proud of who she is with them - and her power allows her to control the weather. The parallel isn’t direct, but it’s there. 

And then, part of Five’s argument is also that it’s better to master and have control over their own powers, than to pretend it isn’t part of them and risk having things go wrong in angry moments. 

All in all, it was an interesting thing to explore.

-

**The Time Travel Thing**

What I find to be the biggest paradox in S2 is the fact that Five insisted that if his past self didn’t travel back to 2019, then his current self would stop existing. That presumes two things - that the 2019 as they knew it was still there for old!Five to return to, and that all of them only still exist because some version of them travelled to the 60s from 2019.

For all of that to be true, it should mean that the apocalypse couldn’t ever have happened in 1963. Even if you take the fact that 1982 and 2019 both still existed as evidence the Five clearly _was_ successful in preventing the apocalypse - it also means that there shouldn’t have ever been a Russian invasion for him to walk into - which means he had nothing to stop to begin with. Paradox. Is reality somehow contingent on Five’s perception and influence of it?

So to reconcile these plot elements, I’ve been forced to broaden the definition of ‘The Timeline’ into something like this:

  * Five has been jumping across parallel universes the whole time, perhaps even back and forth.
  * ‘The Timeline’ has never existed as one continuous thread as one might assume it does, but is in fact several threads of possibility twisted and braided together into one reality.



Basically, I’ve had to conceptualise the very nature of the show’s reality like a video game, or more specifically a choice-driven RPG. You can approach things however you want, do/ignore a bunch of side quests, reload checkpoints etc. when you fail, but as long as you complete the main story missions, the world marches forward ‘correctly’. Five himself stumbled into a bad end, and then reloaded ten days earlier to change that ending - but both the good and bad ends are still there in the game’s code, so to speak. Five’s entire character is doing the equivalent of save scumming until he finds the right choices to get to the best end for his faves.

It’s sort of fun to conceptualise Five’s maths superpower as a character unravelling the source code of his own game. And this way we can have both the butterfly effect and fundamental timeline continuity at the same time.

All of this is really just an attempt at reconciling what Five said with how the show has depicted time travel so far. Might not be the most elegant explanation, but it’s sort of unavoidable for a series that revolves this heavily on time travel.

-

**Five’s Possible Fate**

My reason for writing Five’s situation as, well, _that_ , also goes back to the statement that Five made about how if his younger self didn’t travel back in time, then his current self disappears. So what happens if Five _did_ repair the timeline and original!Five lost all reason to ever time travel back to 2019?

If Five ever stopped having a reason to go back in time in the future (aka if his siblings never died at any point, or there was no apocalypse), then his entire life path inevitably gets rewritten like Ben’s. If Ben can save the day in 1963 in ghost form but also be alive again in 2019, it points to there being some sort of capacity in the timeline to repair/erase paradoxes. 

So if we accept Five’s comment about his existence being dependent on the actions of his past self, it’s entirely possible that old!Five can’t keep existing in any world where all his siblings stay alive. And even when he vanishes (like Ben’s ghost did), the world will resettle around the paradox and continue as it will.

But it’s only one possibility and interpretation out of many. At the end of the day, even Five in the fic doesn’t know for certain what would happen, considering how fundamentally chaotic and unpredictable things can get. His hypothesis was only that, a possibility that he leveraged to fish information from Reginald.

However, it was an interesting experience writing Five as someone with the implicit awareness that he was probably going to stop existing at the end of everything. And in particular, as someone trying to prepare his family for the possibility without ever actually acknowledging it aloud. His conversations Vanya, in particular, carried that underlying thread. If future Vanya ever thinks about Five’s words to her hard enough, the pieces have actually been there all along.

Also, it was sort of fun to play around with Five still hiding such a significant secret despite a significant part of the fic revolving around his family begging him to communicate. Life is messy and imperfect, and sometimes no matter what, there are just things you can’t say aloud to the people you love, and risks you can’t take. I suppose it adds an element of realism, at the end of the day?

-

**Season 3 Speculation and Lila**

I had always set out to do as little s3 speculation as possible in this fic, but considering the nature of Five’s injuries, it ultimately became unavoidable due to the sheer amount of recovery time that it would merit. There was no way to timeskip several weeks or months to allow for the comfort part of h/c without making some definitive statements about the changed timeline - there just no way to naturally ignore what the characters have been doing during all that time waiting.

My solution to the problem, in the end, was to introduce ‘magical’ healing via an unspecified Sparrow Academy member. And without wanting to define the members of the Sparrow Academy too explicitly (the fic is not about them, after all), I ended up bringing Lila back. It became a good excuse to write a fun, chaotic character, introduce a ‘villain’ of sorts to the story, and also to more or less reflect my own hopes for how her arc could resolve. I am a sucker for this found family stuff, and it was nice to consider a future where everyone is one big happy family.

In the end, it was impossible to not at least speculate on the changed timeline somewhat. And my ultimate solution for tying up(?) all the loose threads and plot hooks I’ve woven into the fic was to place Five in a similar situation that the rest of us are in. And that led to Five being forced into piecing together what few clues he could collect in a short few days of convalescence, and simply trying to brute force his way to the truth of their situation through sheer logic (and maths). The ‘incoming apocalypse’ element also meant that he didn’t have the time for a more thorough investigation. Considering the recurring theme of the show so far, I felt that it was appropriate. In turn, Reginald’s naturally unforthcoming nature helped with the lack of specificity. 

As for the Sparrow Academy, I chose not to clearly establish them for a few reasons, the foremost being this is a fic about the family. I didn’t want to introduce any more new elements and characters than strictly necessary. Secondly, even though we have the comics as a rough indication of what can happen, there is every possibility that the show will do something unique or different, considering how much they’ve deviated from the comics already. It’s also why I’ve in part ignored the green floating cube shaped elephant in the room, I wasn’t going to have any explanation for that which would stand up to what canon will throw at us. I have a small hope that this fic won’t become completely unreadable once season 3 does come out, and may make some small edits to the fic afterward, if canon allows. And for that reason, I think the less direct contradictions there are likely to be, the better.

In terms of the Commission link that Five put forward, the theory was born from all of the sparrow easter eggs the production crew put into the show. There are a few compilations out there which will point them out to you, but, well, a LOT of them are related to the Commission in various ways. I don’t expect them to actually have in-universe ramifications, but hey, who knows. Most interestingly, a sparrow symbol appears on some papers in old!Five’s briefcase, as well as the kill order for Lila’s parents. Since Five worked for the Commission for several years, I couldn’t resist having him pick up on the symbology.

Of course, it goes without saying that all of Five’s theory is simply that, a theory. There is every chance that S3 will provide wildly different explanations and directions for the show. But it’s been a fun puzzle to try and untangle, and I hope it was an entertaining journey for you.

-

**Just For Fun**

[Here](https://ingu.tumblr.com/post/627129363532546048/12-i-came-here-straight-from-finishing-your-tua) is a a little non-canon fic!verse prompt fill on tumblr where teen!Five shows up at the Hargreeves house.

Five’s fave siblings during this fic, in order, based on how annoying they’ve been: Vanya, Allison, Luther, Klaus, and Diego

Music selections for some scenes in the fic:

  * Five vs. Diego fight: What I Like About You by The Romantics
  * Dance party: Girls Just Want To Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper



Thank you so much for reading. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think, I am awful at replies but I love and treasure every comment. 
> 
> If you'd like to chat, feel free to come yell about this dumb fam on my tumblr, where you can find me at [ingu](https://ingu.tumblr.com). I tend to be better at answering asks and messages.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Familiar ghost of the past](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26666530) by [Poetforlost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetforlost/pseuds/Poetforlost)




End file.
